Page 22 of Yours Temporarily

A slow song starts, and the very air changes. I shiver when his hand curls around my waist and draws me into an orbit of warmth and closeness.

We begin to move, and I glide into the steps. With our fingers interlaced in one hand, I rest my other hand on his chest since I can’t reach his shoulder comfortably without stepping on tiptoes. The soft chandelier light bathes us, and the music wraps around us.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” he murmurs, his breath a whisper against my ear stirring a flutter in my chest.

“Thank you for inviting me.” A whisper is all I can manage. Immersed in his proximity, I have to remind myself to breathe. His spicy scent and warmth envelop me, accelerating my heartbeat. “Just so you know, I’m a terrible dancer with slow songs.”

“Makes two of us.” His smile melts my heart, yet his admission bolsters my confidence. His lips brush my ear. It’s just his way of making sure I can hear him through the music, but he has no idea it melts me inside. “You said you took dance lessons. Salsa, was it?”

“You remembered?” My smile breaks through my nervousness. “I never returned to salsa and didn’t venture into any other dances after that.”

As the song flows, we glide together, our bodies finding a rhythm as natural as breathing. The world recedes, leaving only us in a bubble of intimacy. His warmth and the steady pressure of his hand on my back crafts an alarmingly real connection. The lines of our façade are blurring for me—maybe even for both of us—with each slow step.

Maybe it’s all in my head, but there’s barely a breath between us. For a fleeting moment as the song nears its end, our lips hover dangerously close, and the rest of the dance floor fades further into oblivion. Like a wave in the ocean, affection swims between us. I have to assume he’s leaning forward, because our lips are almost touching, and his breath is sending goose bumps shivering down my spine.

The song ends, the bubble bursts, and Jeremy tears away from me. A flicker of something—maybe confusion—crosses his face as if he is about to make the biggest mistake of his life. He starts walking back, and I follow as if the dance was my idea.

Back at our table, we sit in silence as the couples in the room continue dancing or chatting.

Despite this very real closeness, a gap lingers between us. I reach for a goblet, attempting to quench this more-than-physical thirst, sensing the stir of emotions our dance left unquenched.

“What do you usually do after the dance?” I break the silence.

“People stick around, mingle until they decide to head home.” His index finger traces his award statue, and something unreadable adds huskiness to his voice.

How awkward this is with just the two of us at the table! The silence presses in, heavy, charged with the aftermath of our shared moment. I scan the room. Damien’s laughing at whatever the woman standing with him is telling him, his head tilted back. Perhaps that’s Jessie.

Olivia and Lexi seem engrossed in conversation with the other person at their table. The temptation to escape to familiarity, to dodge the awkwardness, grows.

“Ready for me to take you home?”

Caught off guard, I dip my head and rub at my bare arms. Am I relieved or just saddened?

“Are you usually the first to leave?” I ask, seeking anything to navigate away from the precipice of our earlier connection.

He shrugs, and the gesture speaks volumes yet reveals little. Then Nico returns, his energy infectious, and Jeremy shifts toward him, seeming eager for the distraction.

“Looks like you’ve been having a good time.” The ease with which he transitions into casual conversation with his friend leaves me to wonder about the man’s facets.

“Guys, you shouldn’t be sitting here.” Nico urges us to get back to the dance floor. “We need to keep the night alive.”

Jeremy stiffens and barely glances at me. Scratching his jaw, he redirects the conversation to their upcoming golf the next day.

I sit up straighter. This change in him—Does it mean our connection tonight wasn’t just my imagination? Did it rattle him? It’s not a good time for a relationship while I’m getting my café off the ground, but I tend to forget that whenever I’m with Jeremy.

Deciding to distance myself, I opt for an escape. “I’ll hitch a ride with Damien.” I stand and snatch my clutch bag from where I tucked it at the back of my chair.

“You’re leaving already?” Nico’s high forehead crinkles, glistening with evidence of his dancing. “You can’t leave your date behind.”

If only you knew, it’s my date leaving me behind. But I shake my head instead. “It was nice to meet you, Nico.” I have to speak for myself since my date is preoccupied with silence. “Bye, Jeremy.”

Somehow, I infuse casualness into my voice, even as disappointment dulls everything in me. “Thank you for tonight.” You’re the worst date! But I hold that in too. “I had a great time.” Also true, after all. I just hadn’t expected it to end so abruptly.

Jeremy nods. “Of course. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” His polite words widen the distance between us with every syllable.

“Wait. What?” Nico scoots closer and moves his half glass of water between us. “Why don’t you give your date a ride?”

“It’s late.” Jeremy still doesn’t look at me. “It makes sense for her to ride with her roommates.”

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