Elena didn’t hesitate. She stepped away from her partner, her hand sliding into Mateo's—a perfect fit, like they had never let go.
As they began to move, locked into that fast, rhythmic sway that only Córdoba knows, Mateo leaned into her ear. The music was so loud it felt like it was coming from inside his own bones.
"I lied," he whispered, the truth finally louder than the brass. "I miss you so much it hurts to breathe."
Instead, as the chorus kicked back in with that infectious, driving cuarteto energy, he pushed off the bar. He navigated the sea of dancers, his eyes locked on hers. He reached them just as the song reached its peak. Without a word, he held out his hand.