She slows to a stop, still breathing hard, rain dripping down her nose. For a second, I think she hasn’t noticed me, until her head tilts and her eyes lift toward the sliding door.
Fuck, she noticed me.
I think she’s going to make a face at me and walk away, but then she smiles.
The same radiant, sunshine smile that could probably burn through fog.
She gestures for me to come outside, just a slight tilt of her hand, her fingers curling toward herself.
My palm is already sweaty against the cool metal handle of the sliding glass door, and I have to wipe it once against my flannel pajamas before I move.
I tell myself to calm down, she’s just afriend, but my pulse is pounding so hard I can feel it in my ears.
The track squeaks softly as I unlock it and slide the door open, a rush of night air flooding into the room, threaded with the scent of rain and honeysuckle.
Outside, fireflies flicker brighter with the disturbance, scattered sparks drifting slowly.
“Dance with me, Reed.”
My stomach drops, and the sensation of butterflies comes fluttering back. “What?”
Her laughter ripples through the rain, unbothered. “Come on!” she yells. “Dance with me!”
I blink, glancing down at myself. “I’m not dancing in the rain.”
“Course you are,” she says simply, like it’s already decided. She takes a step closer, her wet cami clinging to her chest, her nipples hardening with each gust of wind.
Fuck.
“When I’m stressed, this helps. Moving, yelling, feeling the music. It’s stupid, but…” she shrugs, gaze softening, “I relate to this song so badly it hurts.”
Those two words hit me harder than I expected.
It hurts?
This woman, this vibrant, ridiculous, unfiltered burst of color, hurts?
The thought lodges somewhere deep. Because for all her laughter and brightness, there’s something in the way she says it that cracks something open in me.
I step out onto the deck, rain soaking through my white Henley instantly. She’s watching me, waiting, with her hand outstretched between us.
“Come on,” she whispers. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
A hundred things flash through my mind: embarrassment, slipping, falling, looking like an idiot, but none of it seems to matter when she’s looking at me like that.
I hesitate for half a second, then I take her hand, interlocking our fingers.
She tugs me forward into the yard, laughing when I almost trip on the slick grass.
The music is still playing, softer now, fading into another remix.
She starts moving again, her hips swaying side to side as her hair flies as she spins. “You’re too stiff!” she laughs, circling me. “Come on, Reed, let loose! Pretend no one’s watching!”
I shake my head, rain dripping from my jaw. “You’re watching me.”
“So!” she says, spinning again. “Now move those hips!”
A real laugh escapes me, and it surprises me with how loud it is; it’s been so long.
