After we finish dinner, the band and I help Nonna put away the food. I'm sure it's not so much that they are being polite but avoiding dancing with Nonna's friends after they've had a few glasses of wine.

"All right, A.J., you've got to dance with me." Oscar offers his hand.

I accept, and he twirls me onto the dance floor, placing his hand on my waist.

"I noticed you and Kade were both missing today. Was he nice or do I need to kick his ass?"

His overprotectiveness brings a smile to my face. "Surprisingly, he was really sweet."

"Good."

"You don't have to worry about me, Oscar. I don't want to get between you and Kade's friendship."

"You won't, but I also don't want him to be a dick to you. Besides," he says, spinning me, "how can I dislike a guy who likes to dance with your grandma?"

I look over his shoulder to see Nonna clinging to Kade. He leads her in a slow box step, and a smile consumes her face while she looks up at him. The way his long fingers lay across her back is gentle like he is taking extra care with her. Oscar makes a good point: how can I hate someone who treats my grandmother with such tenderness? Lifting their clasped hands above Nonna's head, Kade twirls her, and his eyes meet mine. He's a legit heartbreaker—it comes effortlessly to him.

The song ends and I follow Oscar back toward the tables. Kade passes me walking in the opposite direction, he grabs my hand, turning me back to the floor. "Dance with me." It is not a question but a sweet demand.

Kade places his hand on the small of my back and pulls me close, and little electric shocks spark throughout my body. Our hands intertwine and rest against his chest, and I can feel his heartbeat. His warm breath brushes against the side of my face, smelling of wine and a hint of mint—he's intoxicating.

For a moment, I entertain the thought of pulling away, but my cheek moves closer until it rests on his chest. Kade sets his chin on the top of my head and we move along the floor.

"That was really sweet of you to ask Nonna to dance," I say.

"I like her. She's funny, and I think she has a thing for me." His cheeks flex with a smile against my head.

"Thousands of girls throw themselves at you every night, and you're most excited about an old lady who has a crush on you?"

Kade laughs. "If I was thirty-five years older, I might have asked her out on a date."

"Sixty-year-old-tattooed-Kade out on a date with Nonna. It's quite the mental picture."

He moves back a bit, looking down at me. "What? She complimented my tattoo sleeve, said it was very interesting."

"I heard 'interesting' is the worst word any artist could hear about their work."

One side of his mouth lifts and he shrugs. "I'm taking it as a compliment from her."

The song ends, and before I can move away, I swear I feel his lips brush across my hairline. My stomach somersaults, and I hurry to put some much-needed distance between us.

As the party dwindles, I say goodnight to my family and friends and retreat to my room. The music seeps through the open window, calming my frazzled nerves. I crawl into bed, surprised to find my iPhone returned to its spot on the nightstand. I note the three missed calls from Asher, and without hesitation, I swipe the notification bar. His phone goes straight to voicemail, and I toss the cell back on the nightstand.

With a sigh, I close my eyes, trying not to let it get to me.