Page 97 of Mine To Hunt

My chest tightens. I pull my arm back and stand up before he can touch me again, my heart beating faster now.

"I think I’ll go find Al." I say quickly, not waiting for his response.

I step away from the booth and move into the crowd. The music hits me harder out here, louder and heavier, the bass vibrating through my body as people move around me in flashing lights and shifting shadows.

I push through the crowd until I reach Al. He’s moving easily to the music, laughing with two of his friends, completely relaxed like he belongs here in a way I never will. I touch his arm lightly.

"Al."

He turns toward me right away. "Hey. You good?"

"We should leave soon." I say, leaning closer so he can hear me. "I’m getting tired. And it’s… a lot in here."

His brows pull together. "Already?"

I nod. "Yeah. It’s just really crowded."

He studies my face for a second, like he’s trying to figure out if something else is wrong. "Did something happen?"

"No." I say quickly. "I’m just tired."

He tilts his head slightly. "Ree… you just got here."

"I know. I just…" I stop, not sure how to explain the feeling sitting in my chest. "It’s loud. And I’m not used to places like this."

He exhales softly, then shifts a little closer so I can hear him better. "Hey. Relax. You’re safe, okay?"

I swallow and nod faintly.

"A lot’s been going on with you lately." He continues, voice gentler now. "You needed a break. That’s why I brought you here. Not to stress you out more."

"I know." I say quietly.

He watches me for another second, then reaches for my hand. His grip is warm but light, like he’s giving me the choice to pull away if I want to.

"Come on." He says. "Just one song. Dance with me. If you still want to leave after that, we’ll go. Promise."

I hesitate.

"One song." He repeats, smiling a little. "That’s it."

"…Okay." I say finally.

His smile widens just a bit. "There we go."

He doesn’t drag me or spin me or do anything dramatic. He just starts moving to the beat and gently guides me with him, letting me find the rhythm instead of forcing it.

At first my body feels stiff, my steps unsure, but he doesn’t rush me. He keeps it slow, easy, matching my pace.

"See?" He says. "Not so bad."

I let out a small breath. "Maybe."

"That’s progress."

I almost smile. Slowly, without meaning to, I start moving more naturally. My shoulders loosen. My hands stop hovering awkwardly at my sides. I stop thinking so much about how I look.

Al notices immediately. "There it is."