huh?”
“Rena did it.”
“So are we going to…” He knows I don’t usually even use my wheelchair, even with the cast, except when I’m tired. I have it because I promised Mom I wouldn’t take any chances tonight—like dancing without my wheelchair. A promise I never intended to keep.
“No,” I shake my head. “I don’t need it.”
Julian’s hand lands on the armrest, and I swear my body heats up just from that closeness. He leans forward, his head near my chest, and searches for the brakes. They’re already locked in place but telling him that would involve speaking, which his close proximity has rendered impossible.
“Oh. Okay. You’re all set, I guess.” He moves back sort of delicately, like he somehow just noticed that his face was practically in my chest, but he covers up with a sweet little smile. He extends his palm, all chivalrous. “Ready?”
I place my hand in his. His free hand goes to my waist, and he helps me stand.
“Do you need your crutches?”
They are hanging in a bag on the wheelchair handle. I want to say no, but that’s not reality based. So I nod. He frees them from the bag and holds them out for me.
“Can I help you?”
I place my elbow in one of the crutches and Julian slips his arm around me, anchoring me to him as we walk toward the dance floor. He’s got his palm flat against my back like he’s guiding me and claiming me as his dance partner all at once. My heart warms at the thought that he’s letting everyone know that I’m with him.
The music starts, and it’s a slow one just like Ben promised. Julian’s arms go around me, but I can’t put mine around him because of the crutch.
“This isn’t our first dance,” Julian says.
“I know. I remember. When we were skating.”
“We danced just like this.” His attentiveness feels so sharp. “The skating part was fun. Until you fell.”
“Right. That part wasn’t so fun.”
For some reason the mention of that fall puts my muscles on guard. Tiny points of tightness threaten to blossom into full-blown spasm. Julian senses something because he pulls me a little closer, closer than he was dancing with those other girls. Being so close to Julian makes me forget about my spastic muscles. It actually makes them soften and stand down. I send a silent thank-you prayer into the universe. This is going really well.
“I hope you don’t mind the jersey,” he says. “I had to do it right.”
“I wouldn’t have expected anything else. Eric would be proud.”
Julian does a self-conscious little laugh, and I want to kick myself for bringing up my brother at a time like this.
“Can I tell you a secret?” he asks. His breath is warm against my ear in the nicest way and my body melts even closer against his.
“Yes.” Even though the thought terrifies me.
“I’ve never met anyone like you, Jenna.”
“I’m sure.”
“I mean it. You are so fierce. So fun. When I knew we were moving back here, I was hoping I’d get to see you.”
“We will always have The Great Gatsby.” Why can’t I stop making references to my alter ego? Am I insane?
“Yes, we will.” His eyes sparkle. Actually sparkle. I feel like an idiot. He’s having fun with me.
I swallow hard. My hands curl, gripping his jersey. I worry he’ll be annoyed, but instead he presses up against me so our bodies lock. He’s at least six inches taller than I am, but most of our parts align. I can feel my stomach against his. My chest against his. When he speaks, I feel his exhalations on my neck, tiny little pulses.
“I like dancing with you. I really like dancing with you. Even better off the ice.” He pulls back so I can see his face. And that feels like such a sweet thing to do. Such an honest thing. Like he wants me to know how he really feels. “But I hate the way they this dance works. You know, if you don’t bring someone, then girls keep asking you to dance.”
“And that’s a problem?” I ask.
“I’m not really good at all of that.” And when I give him a questioning look he answers, “All the flirting and the playing games.”
“You don’t like games, says the hockey player.”
His smile spreads the full length of his face. “Yeah. I like the hockey kinds of games, sure…”
“If you don’t like to dance, why did you come?” I ask, feeling a little brave.
“I’m looking for