Chapter 180
HARLOTTE-
We had been invited to Roman and Olivia’s wedding, and guests kept looking at us because I was sitting next to Luca Vescari.
Famous. Fast. The biggest reputation ever. I could already count the girls he would give his number to before the cake was cut. A different one in his room for every night of this week, just from this wedding
alone.
Fathers watched him closely and pulled their daughters as far away as possible.
I inwardly sighed.
At least those girls were not serious. Unlike what he had felt for Olivia. She was marrying Roman tonight and Luca had never had a chance.
Her heart had been taken a long time ago. I had seen his feelings for her in the hotel before he even admitted he liked her. I had seen it again at the track when Roman shouted that he loved her, and Luca realized he didn’t stand a chance against that confession.
I walked over to the drinks and tried to drown the frustration.
There had been so many times I wanted to confess. It was never the right time. Deep down I also knew he would reject me, and then the easy feeling between us would get uncomfortable, and I was not up for that.
I would always be his best friend. One of the boys. I could live with that. I had been living with that.
When I came back, a girl was already on his lap.
I felt sick.
I took another drink.
Then Olivia was beside me in her reception dress, flushed and glowing and married, red hair up. ring catching the light like it had always been inevitable.
“Thank you for coming.”
I smiled. “Thanks for the invitation.”
Roman’s
She followed my eyes to Luca and leaned in. “You know, sometimes taking a risk is worth it in the end.”
“Excuse me?”
She winked. “You know what I’m talking about.”
Before I could answer, Blair pulled her toward the dance floor. Both of them had ended up with the loves of their lives.
Pregnant. Chosen. Lucky.
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I watched them go and told myself I was happy for them, which was true, but not the whole truth.
ughed again when Luca appeared and tugged me onto the floor anyway.
He was trying to look happy. He was hurting. No one knew him as well as I did. The smile was too bright. The jokes were too easy. He held me like a friend. He never pushed it further.
The song was slow. His hand sat polite at my waist. Mine sat polite on his shoulder. We had danced like this a hundred times at after-parties and hotel bars, and it had never felt this bad in my chest.
He did not look down at my dress. He looked past my ear at Olivia spinning with Roman, then at the exit, then at nothing.
“You are stepping on my foot,” I said.
“You are lying.”
“I am trying to distract you.”
He huffed a laugh that did not last. “Keep dancing with me. If I stand still I will do something stupid.”
“Stupider than a girl on your lap before the cake?”
“That was not stupid. I got her number.”
I hated how well I understood him.
I grabbed his hand and pulled him outside before the next song could make me say something I could not take back.
I turned to face him.
“You don’t have to pretend to be happy with me,” I said.
He smiled. “I am happy.”
I rolled my eyes. “No, you’re not. You really liked Olivia, and you have to stand in there and watch her marry another man.”
He sighed. The smile dropped the rest of the way. “You really can read me like an open book.”
I folded my arms across my chest. With any other woman, Luca’s eyes would have already gone there. With me, he did not spare my body a second look. That should have been comforting. It felt like a door that never opened.
“Let’s leave,” I said. “We do not have to stay. You showed your face enough. We only have a few days left before we fly out to Monaco. Remember?”
He let out a breath. “Yes. How can I forget?”
“Come on. You need to practice. You didn’t get first last race. You need to beat Nico this time.”
Most races, first place could be given to one of three racers. Nico Shaw. Luca Vescari. And Luca’s older brother, Marco. Just as talented. Just as good-looking. Not the player his younger brother was, though the
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The Mockey Captam’s Unwanted Wife
girls still went crazy for him.
nless you want Marco to beat your ass this time.”
Luca scoffed. “Yeah, right.”
“You know Marco is kind of cute,” I said.
Luca stopped walking. Frowned. The air changed.
“Cute? Did you hit your head?”
I smiled, light on purpose, because if I made it a joke he could not hear how much I wanted a reaction. “Just putting it out there. I wouldn’t mind dating him.”
He growled.
Actually growled.
Something lower. Possessive in a way he had no right to be with a girl he had never looked at like a girl.
“Don’t ever say that again.”
I was taken aback. He looked angry. Not joking-angry. Real. Jaw tight. Eyes sharp. The same face he wore when another driver touched his car.
“Why not?”
“You’re not his type.”
Heat traveled up my neck. Not his type. Meaning Marco dated models and I was far from it. Not the usual slim, model figure.
Meaning Luca could put a stranger on his lap at a wedding and still decide who I was allowed to want.
I gaped at him and threw the bottle I was still holding.
He laughed as it missed, the laugh too quick, like he needed the joke back.
We headed for his car, the wedding lights shrinking behind us.
I sat in the passenger seat with my pulse racing and one thought that would not sit still.
What was with that reaction?
He started the engine like Monaco was already waiting.
I watched his hands on the wheel. I always loved seeing his muscles flex.
He caught me looking, “what?”
I blushed and quickly looked away. “Nothing.”
Nothing at all.
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The Mockey Captain’s Unwanted Wife
Beside me, Luca Vescari stared at the road and said nothing about his brother again.
buckled my seatbelt and told myself his growl earlier meant nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
୦
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Dex Morgan
Dex works to elevate each story with clean writing, emotional balance, and thoughtful flow for readers.