Page 37 of Meant to be Mine

“Now you’re speaking my language,” Victoria said and grabbed Callum’s arm.

Cleo was already moving toward the door, her dress catching the string lights as she went.

The room had shifted. The crowd had loosened. The alcohol had done its work. The DJ had moved away from the carefully curated background music and into something with more of a pulse. It wasn’t club music, but the dance floor in the center of the room had a few brave couples on it already.

Drew led me through the crowd with his hand in the small of my back, the same way he’d guided me into the venue hours ago. My whole nervous system noted it. We reached the edge of the floor just as the song shifted into something slower. Of course it did.

Drew turned to face me. He raised his eyebrows once in that quick silent shorthand. Well?

I put my hand in his and let him pull me in.

We weren’t pressed together. There was a respectable amount of space between us, the kind that made sense for two people who were friends and colleagues at a professional event. But his hand was warm at my waist and mine was on his shoulder and I was very aware of every single point of contact.

Callum and Victoria had found their own space on the floor. I watched her tuck herself against his body like she’d found exactly where she was supposed to be. Cleo had been pulled in by one of their cousins, Dash.

“See?” Drew said quietly, near my ear. “Prom.”

I laughed softly. “Better than prom.”

“Significantly less throwing up.”

13

DREW

The song stretched out, slow and easy and with that rhythmic bass that demanded touching. Callum and Victoria drifted off the floor first, finding a table near the window where I could see Victoria lean into him and say something that made him laugh. I loved seeing my brother so happy. Cleo lasted another song before Dash pulled her toward the bar with the promise of something stronger than champagne.

Neither of us made a move to leave the dance floor. We were surrounded by other couples taking advantage of the excuse to rub bodies together without looking weird in public. The space between us had closed by degrees. Her hand was still in mine and my arm had found its way further around her waist. I was pulling her closer a little more with each chorus. She wasn’t pulling back. Her head was tilted slightly down, not resting on my shoulder but close. Her warm vanilla scent had me thinking about sweet things. And that made me want to know if she tasted sweet.

The DJ knew what he was doing. The next song was slower still. Something R and B that made a body just want to bump and grind.

“Is this anything like you imagined?” I asked softly.

She looked up at me. “What do you mean?”

“Prom. The one you never got.”

She thought about it. “Better music,” she said. “Better food. Better venue.” A pause. “Better date.”

“Jared Daniels set a low bar.”

“The lowest.” She smiled. “Although.” She tilted her head, considering. “I’m missing something.”

“What?”

“An ugly corsage. You know the ones. Baby’s breath and a carnation dyed a color that doesn’t exist in nature, pinned to your wrist with a ribbon that cuts off your circulation.”

I glanced over her shoulder. One of the arrangements on the high-top table nearest to us was filled with white roses. I released her hand.

“Drew, where are you going?”

I reached past the couple standing near the table, plucked a single rose from the edge of the arrangement, and turned back to her.

“Hold still,” I said.

She went still. I reached up and tucked the stem carefully behind her ear, into the soft wave of her hair where it would catch. I took my time making sure it sat right. My fingers brushed her temple and I heard a soft inhale. I stepped back and looked at her.

“There,” I said. “Now you’re perfect.”