❝𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧, 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐨. 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞.❞
❦
"What are you doing in my fridge?"
I immediately grabbed my knife strapped to my thigh and pointed it at the person behind me's throat.
"Seriously?" I whispered.
He wasn't even fazed by...
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"Oh!" Amilia gasps as we walk into the house. "Are you dancing tonight?"
Surprised, I look over at Antonio, seeing him in conversation with Cesar.
How does she-
"He told me," she answers the question in my head.
"Oh..." I slowly trail off.
"I hope you don't mind," she hesitates. "I didn't mean to-"
"No, no, I don't. I'm just surprised that he told you- I mean that's not something you just tell people, you know?" I ask as she pours us both a glass of wine. She looks a little confused so I elaborate. "What I do, isn't necessarily something people understand or respect, you know. In my experience, they usually look at you differently."
She nods in understanding.
"Antonio cares for you deeply and he sure as hell isn't ashamed of what you do- and neither am I. I think it's fucking insane how you're able to lift your body and dance on and around a fucking pole," she says lifting her glass to her lips.
"Thanks," I chuckle, taking a sip.
"So does that mean I can watch," she excitedly asks, clasping her hands together.
"Of course," I smile and she squeals, coming over to hug me.
We sway left to right before heading upstairs to my room with our wine.
We started planning little things here and there for my wedding and it was incredibly fun with her. We could barely speak, think, or do anything with the way we were rolling on the floor - laughing.
It got so bad to the point where Antonio walked in, saw us on the floor, and walked out saying nothing.
The pole for my room finally arrived and she helped me assemble it.
I had asked Antonio to help and he couldn't keep his dirty thoughts to himself.
"Next we're getting mirrors, since I felt how much you liked them," he whispers in my ear and goosebumps rose on my neck. I turned my head to him and he winked at me before giving me a quick peck on the lips.
Thereafter - around eight - we all got ready to go to the club.
Amilia couldn't contain her excitement the entire drive over here.
"So you're like really fucking strong, right?" she leans in to ask as we walk inside.
"Yeah, I guess. It's mostly upper body strength for me," I reply.
"And flexibility," Antonio grins and I lightly nudge his stomach.
"Ay chika!" Silvia sing-songs. "¿Dónde has estado? Es como si te hubieras olvidado de tu trabajo aquí!" she hurtfully says. "You need to be here more," she reprimands.
