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I'm sure Harper can feel it, but she says nothing.
I don't know how long we danced, but Harper finally pulls away. I sense the reluctance before I see it in her eyes.
"I have to go home," she says. "I need to get Mira first."
"Right," I mutter.
I don't want to let her go. But I do.
"I'll call Caleb," I offer.
She gives me a grateful smile.
As I take out my phone, I see a message from Caleb. I smile and hand the phone over to her, but Harper groans.
"What?" I ask.
She shakes her head.
I grab her chin gently and make her look me in the eye, but my words die on my lips as we lock eyes. It takes more than a minute to remember what I intended to say.
"What’s wrong?" I ask.
"I can't drive myself home. I drank too much."
"You don't look drunk to me," I say tentatively, trying to get a definitive answer from her without seeming forward.
I don't want the moment that passed between us to be a result of the alcohol.
She shakes her head.
"Not that drunk. Most of what I had left when I was dancing, but I'm not sober enough either."
"Why don't I take you home?"
Harper starts to wave her hands in refusal when I cut in.
"We live in the same building, remember? It’s the best option."
An eyebrow arches in question.
"Didn't you drink too?"
"Did you see me drink?"
The wheels in her head go round and around for a minute.
"You know, that's true. When I saw you, you were being annoying. And then we danced before you chased away my dancing partner."
"He was a pervert," I bite.
She chuckles and shakes her head.
"And you aren't?"
I shrug. "Only if you want me to be. If you want to go home, I'll drive you. It's no big deal. And before you say that I might want to stay here," I lift my finger to keep her from interrupting, "I came because Caleb wanted to.”
“Believe it or not, I'm actually the chauffeur tonight. My friends tell me when they want to go out and I drive," I say candidly.
