As far as facial features, Rex and Dante take after their mother. But when it comes to build, the two are entirely different. Rex is taller, leaner. Dante is a little shorter, stockier—the same frame as my father.
“Shae?”
“Huh?” I blink up at Dante. His brows are furrowed.
“You okay? I said your name three times.”
“I’m sorry. I must’ve spaced out.”
“Would you like to dance?”
I look past his shoulder. The music has slowed to a soft ballad. Erin and Jacob are cuddled in the middle of the dance floor, swaying softly as their guests pile in around them. My gaze slides to Rex. He’s still sitting at the bar, his back to us, only now there’s a stunning, familiar blonde at his side.
“I’d love to.”
I slip my hand in Dante’s, allowing him to guide me to the floor, refusing to acknowledge the sheen of tears in Isabella’s eyes.
We find an empty spot, and he gathers me in his arms, careful not to draw me in too close. Our bodies are a good six inches apart, and I smile internally because we’re not only dancing as friends, but as siblings.
The weight of the last week settles around me, and I close my eyes, allowing myself to picture Dante as family. His warm hand engulfs mine, and if I concentrate, I can almost feel my father’s presence.
“She’s no one,” he whispers, spinning us around.
“Who?” I ask, opening my eyes.
“Liza.” He nods toward the bar, and I look over his shoulder.
“Oh. Right.” Except I wasn’t worried about Liza. I’m still not worried about her. I know where Rex and I stand, and that’s a damn good feeling. “I trust him.”
“I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”
I bring my eyes back to his. “Why’s that?”
“He deserves happiness. He deserves someone as great as you.”
“I’m not all that great. I have skeletons.”
“We all have skeletons. But you’re good for him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy.” He pauses. “I have a confession to make.”
“I’m listening.”
“I warned him away from you.” He flinches at his own words.
“I know.”
“You know?”
I nod. “He told me.”
“And?”
Our movements have slowed to the point of standing still as he waits for me to answer.
“And we’re here, aren’t we? Together.”
Dante takes a deep breath and blows it out. “So you know about my father?”
I nod, smiling because I know more about his father than he does, and I can’t wait to fill him in. I also know he’s not talking about that father.