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“Or maybe I show up for the amazing coffee,” I suggested in an innocent tone. “It’s just a coincidence that it happens to be every night that you play.”
“You weren’t there tonight.”
My insides broke out into a full-on happy dance.He knew I didn’t show!“More interesting plans, I’m afraid.” The words might’ve sounded formal, but there was no missing the amusement in my tone, playing off the atmosphere between us.
Harry gazed deeply at me, his blue eyes nearly glowing in the dark. “Hopefully next weekend you don’t have any more interesting plans.”
Smooth. Between his half smile and lingering gaze, my body hummed with all the attention. Flirting was fun only if someone flirted right back, and Harry never missed a beat.
I could’ve hugged Margot for convincing me to ditch the fundraiser.
“I’m Stella,” I told him before pressing the water bottle against my mouth, tipping my head to take a long drink. Fingers crossed that the curve of my neck screamedlook at me, look at me!
“Harry.”
I fought the urge to sayI know.“I’ve never seen you here before.”
He nodded at the stage. “I’m friends with the lead guitarist. Wanted to come support him.” When his eyes found mine again, there was a bit of a charge to them. The music in the background built up to the chorus, the swell of notes almost energetic. “You here with anyone?”
I turned the cap over in my fingers once more, water bottle in my other hand. “Areyou?”
His words were a clear invitation. “I’m all alone tonight.”
“Are you a dancer?”
It almost looked as if Harry debated his response in his head, and I was struck then with the thought: What if he said no? Talk about awkward. Would I ever be able to show my face—er, Stella’s face—at Crushed Beanz again?
He looked past me toward the crowd, then met my eyes once more. After a second of hesitation, the decision he came to prompted him to push off from the wall, rising to his full height. “I guess we can find out, yeah?”
Absolutely.
Quickly, I put the cap back on my water bottle, and with my heart stuttering in my chest, I reached out and grabbed his free hand. His skin was warm against mine, and it might’ve been my imagination, but a little spark tingled at my fingertips. “I guess we can.”
After tossing my empty bottle into the trash can beside him—aim perfect, by the way—I pulled him deeper onto the dance floor.
My heart pumped in tandem with the strobe lights, every molecule in my body vibrating with the beat of the song overhead. Once we got onto the dance floor, surrounded by bodies moving and jumping to the beat, he tugged on my hand, pulling me back against his chest.
His really, really firm chest.
And it turned out that he was a really, really good dancer.
I’d never danced with a boy like this before, wonderfully close and dangerously unhinged. We played off the rhythm to the songs, dancing and swaying to a beat I could feel in my chest. Sure, Eastview Academy had homecomings and proms, and I slow-danced to music with any boy who’d asked. But never anything like this.
Nothing like Harry’s hands braced on my hips, each finger a soft imprint through the fabric of my skirt. The lights flashed and bounced, catching in his beautiful blue eyes. Energy mixed in my veins, leaving me unable to stand still. So I danced.
Or should I say,wedanced. In a way that would’ve horrified my parents.
Except I wasn’t thinking about them. I wasn’t thinking about anything other than the beat of the music and the sensation of Harry’s body on mine, in a way that felt both intimate and not. In a way that felt heated but normal at the same time. Dancing with him came naturally, like it was some second-instinct buried in my brain though I’d never done anything like this before.
Either way, my body hummed, completelyalive.
I almost felt like I was dreaming. Like a princess dancing with Prince Charming. Theysohadn’t danced like this in the movie.
His hands lingered at my waist as mine moved up to lace around the back of his neck, moving in tandem with the beat.
I never understood how two people could have chemistry, but now I got it. Even though we’d only spoken once, literally a few minutes ago, there was something magnetic about the moment—near-intoxicating. I’d never felt anything like it, and I was desperate for more, chasing something new to me.
Harry turned me in a circle, my hair lifting off my shoulders with the movement. Sweat gathered underneath the wig cap, enough that it made me feel a bit overheated. It could’ve also been because Harry’s skin was hot when he pulled me back into him, as if he had a fever.
