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I can’t be that bad a judge of character—no matter what Jude says.
Selina gives up watching us and makes her way onto the open sand to dance with a muscular guy in a backwards hat.
Dane glances at them, then determinedly away.
I wonder if he dances. It seems like there’s no way he does, but also, he might be really good at it. When he puts his hands on my waist, it feels like we’re already dancing.
I’m not a great dancer, but the pull to take Dane out on the fire-lit sand is irresistible.
“D’you—you want to dance?”
Dane lifts his head, startled, like he didn’t expect me to ask. His mouth opens, and then he shakes his head hard and says, “No,” rude and aggressive and looking away.
The rejection hits like a slap.
We were warm and comfortable a moment ago, standing close together by the fire. Everything felt easy and natural.
Now I don’t know what to say or how to hold my face. I don’t want to seem like it matters, but it stung way more than I expected, and now I’m confused and blinking too hard.
Dane shifts uncomfortably. He turns the wine bottle in his hands, opening his mouth again like he thought of something else to say.
Too late—Emma grabs my arm. “Come dance with me.”
Maybe she was listening, or else she saw the look on my face.
I let her pull me out on the sand, my body moving mindlessly to the music.
Emma puts her hands up on my shoulders, dancing close. She’s a good dancer, barefoot on the sand, hair brighter than the fire.
Dane watches us.
“How do you know him?” Emma murmurs close to my ear.
“His house is right by mine.”
She turns so we’re back-to-back, still dancing. Her fingers slide down my wrist until we’re holding hands. Her head rests against mine. “You need to be careful around him.”
Somehow, it’s even hotter over here than right by the fire—too many warm bodies pressed close.
Dane stands with his arms crossed over his chest, watching us.
Emma turns behind me, putting her hands on my hips, staring back at him. Like she’s taunting him.
“He’s fucked up,” she says right in my ear. “Dangerous.”
Lips barely moving, I whisper, “I heard the rumor about his wife.”
Emma keeps her eyes locked on Dane. “It’s no rumor. He killed her.”
“How do you know?”
“Because.” Emma turns me around and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear as we gently sway. “Lila was my friend, and I know he’s fucking lying.”
I’m facing away from Dane now, but still, I’m sure he knows everything we’re saying.
“What happened?”
“He says she drowned in the river by their house.” Emma takes my hand and twirls me around, her fingers sliding down the back of my arm and all the way down my spine. “Do you believe that?”
