Page 16 of Wright Kind of Trouble

A few minutes later, he appeared at my side and held out a glass with amber liquid in it. “Hope whiskey is okay. My wine collection isn’t anywhere as good as my records.”

I took the drink from his hand. “Whiskey is fine.” I sipped the drink as I rummaged more through the collection. “I have intense jealousy over this.”

“Yeah? Which one should we listen to?”

“You pick. I listen to literally all of this.” My hand hovered over a copy of the Eagles’ Hotel California. My dad’s favorite. I shivered and pushed past it. “What are you feeling?”

“All right. Might as well go for the classic.”

He pulled Ziggy Stardust off of its place of honor and removed the vinyl from the sleeve. He set the vinyl on the track and started the player. I watched the needle rise and lower itself, a soft scratching noise the only sound as Chase flipped on the Bose speaker system.

“Battery at sixty percent. Connected to Chase’s iPhone and ATVT,” the speaker proclaimed.

The David Bowie album was spinning on the turntable, but what came out of the speaker was anything but the lyrical genius. Instead, blasting at full volume was none other than ABBA’s “Dancing Queen.”

“What the fuck?” Chase said.

I couldn’t stop myself; I burst into laughter. He was pawing frantically at the speaker, but the dance pop lyrics just continued to serenade us from the speakers. Finally, he glanced over at me and also burst into laughter.

“You like ABBA?”

“What?” he asked, losing all his bravado. “Don’t you? This song is a bop.”

I snorted. “Did you just call ‘Dancing Queen’ a bop?”

He shrugged and ran with it, grabbing my hands and forcing me to dance dramatically around his living room. The laughter was entirely contagious, and as we bounced and twirled on the hardwood floor, we couldn’t keep the giant smiles off our faces. When the chorus hit, I gave in to his antics and began to sing along with the tune.

“I knew you liked it,” he said.

“It’s not my go-to, but it’s a classic.”

I did a little shimmy as I sang about dancing and royalty and the joy of being seventeen and free. It felt a little more realistic here, with him, like this. How young and reckless I was being and how, in the blink of an eye, it all slipped away. And it was just us enjoying this song and each other without inhibitions.

At the final round of the chorus, Chase lifted me up into the air. I giggled as I raised my hands and let him spin me in a circle. Whatever had come over us, I was living for it. Letting the night take us wherever it might.

Then, the song came to an end, and he slowly lowered me to the ground, my chest sliding against his all the way down. Our eyes locked as I passed from above him to below his very kissable lips.

All the air left the room. I wasn’t sure if another song even played after ABBA. All thoughts of setting the record player up and listening all weekend evaporated. I knew exactly what my preference would be.

Right here.

Right now.

With Chase’s hands on me.

I looked up at him through my lashes when my feet finally touched the ground.

But he was still moving toward me, his hands cupping my jaw and lifting my lips to his. And I could do nothing but let him.

6

Harley

The world shifted as Chase devoured me in one perfect kiss. He tipped my head back for better access and slipped his hands down my back to pull our bodies closer together.

It felt like I’d been waiting for this moment all my life.

This was like waking up to a perfect spring morning.

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