and shove it to the side of the table. “I can teach you how to do that sometime if you like.” The way Ran smiles his devilish grin makes my breath spill out all at once, unable to stay trapped inside the confines of my ribcage any longer. He stares me straight in the eye. “Do you wanna dance, Maggie?”
“No.” It fires out of me so quickly I’m not sure if it’s me saying it or if it’s some prerecorded voice.
“You mind telling me why?”
“I’ve been watching you dance with all those other girls all evening. I don’t think I can keep up.” I’m a little mad at him for stealing my stem because I really need something to occupy my focus right now. I settle on my empty glass and swish the half-melted ice cubes back and forth in it so they clink quietly.
“Does it bother you that I’ve been dancing with other girls?” The club’s lights flash rhythmically and colors dance across the walls. The blue in Ran’s eyes is every bit as intense as the bright bulbs that reflect around the room, and they’re just as entrancing.
I shrug my shoulders and slide an ice cube into my mouth. “You’re welcome to dance with anyone you want, Ran.”
“I’d like to dance with you,” he says, pressing in even closer over the table between us. “But I think you’re going to make that very difficult.” Ran wrinkles his nose like he’s thinking through some strategy. “What if I don’t dance with anyone else this evening?” He cocks a brow and I furrow mine, completely confused by his proposition. “It sounds like you don’t like guys that spread their attention too thin, so what if I give all of mine to you for the rest of the night?”
I choke on the ice in my throat and am grateful that it melts quickly and doesn’t lodge there permanently. “You don’t have to give me any attention. This night is for you. Go celebrate.” It’s an unnatural gesture, but I wave him toward the floor.
“I want to celebrate with you, Maggie.” His eyes implore me. “Will you please dance with me? Or are you going to make me beg?”
“It sorta sounds like you already are,” I tease, snatching a glance up at him. His eyes are fixed on me, unfaltering.
After looking at me, expressionless, for several seconds, Ran slides out of the booth and stands at the edge of the table, his hand outstretched. I look at it—at his strong fingers, the ones that I had the right to hold just a few months ago—and my own fingers tremble at the thought of linking with them again. Following a short pause, Ran dismisses my attempt at avoidance and yanks my hand out of my lap, tugging me out of the booth and onto my feet. “Dance with me, Maggie,” he breathes against my ear. I wonder if he knows that by doing things like that, he leaves me no choice. My body reacts even when my mind wills it not to.
We snake through the hordes of people that move as one element as they rhythmically stagger to the fast tempo blaring from the sound system. The energy of the crowd sucks everyone in, like an anchovy in a school of fish, flitting and moving just like the others—many small parts that make up one larger entity. But it’s as though Ran and I stand out. Like we swim upstream while everyone else morphs together and heads the opposite direction.
Ran’s fingers grip onto mine tighter as he guides me toward the far wall to a pocket that opens up into a section of empty dance floor. “This good?” He rotates his head over his shoulder and doesn’t wait for my response before he swings me into him, his hips pressed against me. I gasp. What the hell is he doing? Tonight isn’t supposed to go like this. I shouldn’t be here. My frantic eyes rove over the room, trying to locate the EXIT sign.
Ran drops his hands further down my waist and I lock every joint in my body. I know he can feel it. He has to. We’re so close that I’m sure he can even count every staccato beat of my racing heart just from the echoes of it against his thin gray t-shirt. Ran’s body moves to the music and my rigid frame shifts awkwardly, not at all in sync with the sound that thrums around us, or with his