Bridging Hearts

13. Goodnight, Mr. Grump

Disclaimer : Some scenes may not be suitable for all audience. (Gore)

Her

As I settled back into my seat, my heart pounded in my chest, the rhythm of it still echoing the beat of the music we had just danced to. I watched as Dante stepped away to take a phone call, his expression serious, his voice low. I tried to calm myself, but my mind was racing, replaying the last few minutes over and over.

We had almost kissed. I had almost kissed Dante Marchetti.

I could still feel the warmth of his breath against my skin, the way his hand had rested on the small of my back, pulling me closer as we moved together on the dance floor. It was so close, so intense, that I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to dive into something I wasn't sure I could handle.

What was I doing? This was Dante-Bhaiya's best friend, the man who was supposed to be off-limits. I should regret it, I should want to take it all back, pretend like nothing had happened. But I didn't. I couldn't. Because for all the reasons I had to pull away, there was one overwhelming reason not to: it had felt right. So fucking right that I didn't even want it to end.

I let out a shaky breath, running a hand through my hair, trying to make sense of the turmoil inside me. What was supposed to be a friendly night with Dante had taken a turn I hadn't expected, hadn't even considered. Yet here I was, my heart still racing, my thoughts still caught up in the way he had looked at me, the way we had moved together as if the world around us didn't exist.

So much for keeping things simple.

Before I could dive any deeper into my thoughts, Dante returned, his expression a little less composed than usual. "We need to cut this, uh, night short, Petardo. It's an emergency."

I quickly stood up, concern flickering in my chest. "Everything okay?" I asked, trying to read his face.

He gave me a brief, reassuring smile. "Yeah, just work. Come, I'll drop you home."

Him

"We have an update. You might have to come and see," the voice on the other end of the line said.

I cursed under my breath, frustration bubbling up as I glanced over at Tara. She was bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, her cheeks still flushed from our dance. She looked stunning, a vision of warmth and light, and all I wanted was to continue this evening, to indulge in whatever this was between us.

But duty called, and this was something I couldn't ignore, no matter how much I wanted to. I walked over to her, pushing down the irritation gnawing at me. "We need to cut this, uh, night short, Petardo. It's an emergency." I told her, trying my best to keep my voice even, but failing. The disappointment in her eyes mirrored my own, but there was nothing I could do. Not tonight.

The drive back to her house was quiet, the kind of silence that weighed heavily in the air, thick with unsaid words and unresolved feelings. I reached over and turned on the radio, hoping to break the tension, but as if the universe was mocking me, every station was playing romantic songs.

I tried changing the stations, flicking through one after another, but it seemed like every single one was in a romantic mood tonight. It was absurd, almost comical, and I could hear Petardo holding back her giggles beside me. Finally, I gave up and switched off the radio, the silence returning, but this time, there was a trace of humor between us, softening the edges of the night.

When we reached her house, she hesitated for a moment before reluctantly getting out of the car. She turned back to me, a playful glint in her eyes. "Goodnight, Mr. Grump," she teased, a small smile tugging at her lips.