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I laugh and let him lead me to the dance floor, where we join several of our friends enthusiastically dancing to a throwback song from the 1980s.
After a couple of songs, I'm ready to sit down, but Henry grabs my hand. "Stay." His voice is a little softer.
I look at him, and the gentle, deep look in his eyes turns over a new set of feelings in me. The tender way he's looking at me catches me off guard. Not because I’m uncomfortable, but because there’s a tickle of emotion that’s new. It’s not simply friendship, it’s something…more.
"Oh," I say. "But this is a slow song."
"Stay and dance with me. I'll always dance a slow song with you, Edie." Henry pulls me close against his body, and my skin crackles with desire.
I've had too many drinks if I'm imagining what Henry and I can get up to in that bed tonight. He's too precious to me to lose him by having a drunken fling. He's jokingly made passes at me over the years, but they've always been jokes. Right?
"I’ll never let you down, Edie. I swear." Henry's breath is hot against my ear, and he holds me tighter.
My emotions are a mess. Henry kisses the side of my neck below my ear, and I groan with an uncontrolled burst of desire. This is so good and so, so wrong.
Why is my best friend kissing me like this? The cocktails have muddled everything in my brain. Surely the kiss is because he's had a lot to drink, too.
I gently push Henry away from me. "I think I need to go up to bed. Everything's getting a little woozy."
"Yeah, you're probably right."
"No, no, you stay," I say. "I'd say I'll see you in the morning, but..."
"Yeah," he laughs awkwardly. "I won't be too late."
"Sure."
Back in the room, I wash my face and brush my teeth before pulling on a loose t-shirt and crawling into bed. This is a big bed. We can share it, right?
But when I hear Henry fumbling with the lock and entering our room, I close my eyes tightly and pretend to be asleep. He stumbles through the room before quietly sliding in next to me. Even though it's a big bed, his body heat envelops me under the covers.
"Goodnight, sweetheart," Henry whispers.
The weight on the bed shifts, and his breathing slows and evens out. My heart thumps in my chest. He called me sweetheart.
I scoot to the edge of the bed, my muscles tense. My mind is fuzzy with alcohol and emotions, but one thing is clear—I need to keep distance between Henry and me. I can't jeopardize our friendship. Losing him would mean losing everything.
But when I look over my shoulder at him, my heart beats fast in a different way, and I want to ignore what my brain is telling me and follow what my heart is urging me to explore.
