light kicks around the space, flashing over his face before bouncing off. It’s a funhouse on steroids, and the buzz from the tequila warms my blood.
People squeeze by us, and he maneuvers closer to me, pressing a hand on the wall behind me to keep a few inches between us. Shit.
He stares down at me, and I avoid his gaze.
“Man, this place is nuts,” he murmurs in my ear. “It’s better upstairs. You want to go?”
I lick my lips. “What about this girl? Are you like, in love with her?”
My breath holds tight in my chest, and I don’t move a muscle as we stare at each other.
“I don’t know what love is, actually.” He tucks his hands in his pockets, straightening and pulling away. “Do you?”
“I think it’s when you can’t think of a person without aching to see them.”
“I see.”
I nod. “The person you love can hurt you, though. You have to be careful.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be careful anymore. Sometimes you just have to let go, right?”
“Maybe.”
He leans in closer, and my body trembles.
He looks down at me and whispers in my ear, his lips barely touching the top. “I don’t want to be careful tonight, babe. Are you with me?”
Several seconds pass as neither of us speaks.
I should walk away. I really, really should.
He gestures to the drink I’m holding at my side. “You gonna drink that or just stare down at it all night?”
“Why do you care?” I laugh, looking up at him, my mind circling back to his comment about love.
He doesn’t know what it is.
How is that possible? Hasn’t he ever been in love? He wasn’t with me, but surely at some point…
He touches a piece of my hair from my ponytail. “I want to dance. Finish it. Let’s see how good a dancer you are, freshman.”
I drink it down. “I have skills that will blow your mind.”
“Oh, I bet you do. ” He takes the cup from me, his fingers touching mine, and puts it on the floor next to my feet along with his own.
The music changes to a slower one, “I Hate U, I Love U” by Gnash, the lyrics low and sad, a dichotomy of opposing emotions mixed together.
Frowning, I pull back. “No. Maybe another song.”
“This one,” he insists. “I like it. It reminds me of someone…” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to think about her. Come on.”
But…
I’ve listened to this song on repeat for hours, and I…can’t. I cried my eyes out over the lyrics in my bed. I don’t want to go back to three months ago.
But there’s a determined set to his face, and when he says come on again in a teasing way and gives me that smile I can’t resist, I take his hand. He leads me out to the dance floor, his broad shoulders maneuvering through the crowd. He places us in the center of the room.
We don’t move for a second, both of us unsure. There’s a hesitant look in his eyes as he watches me, a reserve, as if he’s not certain what to do next, and for a second I think he’s changed his mind and might walk away.
He doesn’t. His arms curl around my waist slowly, slowly as he takes his time, savoring every slide of his hands as he palms the curve of my hips then moves them to rest at the top of my ass. He inches me forward in my heels, pulling us close. Butterflies flutter when his gaze warms, a slow, almost knowing smile on his lips until we’re aligned, our legs brushing.
I start slow, my hands on his chest, trying to keep a small bit of distance between us, but I’m into it. The speakers blare, the lyrics and piano from the song throbbing in the air. It wraps around us, settling inside me, beating. My hands curl up around his neck.
We’ve danced before, but this is different. New.
He doesn’t know me.
We have no past.
Who would he be with a new girl?
How would he woo her?
His head dips and his breath skates across the skin exposed on my neck. “You smell fucking good,” he whispers. I barely hear him over the music, but I can’t hide my shudder when his nose glides up toward my ear.
He leans back to stare at me, and even though it’s dark out here, I see his eyes glow, low and heavy, a question there.