Page 65 of His Secret Gift

As a pack of mostly white people, it doesn’t take long for people to notice us.

“Would you like to dance?” a tall, tan man asks me.

“Um…”

Callie pushes me closer to him. “She’d love to.”

I look back at her and she flicks her wrists in encouragement.

“I’m Amine,” he says in my ear.

“I’m Kayla.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Kayla. Where are you from?”

“Uh.” I remember my brother telling me never to admit that I was an American while traveling. “Canada.”

“Canada? Where abouts?”

“Montreal.”

That proves itself to be a mistake when he starts speaking to me in French.

“Parlez-vous français?” he asks after I remain dumbfounded.

I shake my head.

“Really? And you’re from Montreal?”

To get him to stop asking questions, I take his hand and lead him out onto the dance floor.

I don’t recognize the song that’s playing, but the rhythm is fast paced.

At first, we dance apart, but he quickly grabs my hips and pulls me closer.

“You’re very good.”

I blush. “Thank you.”

Then, I glance at Gwen and think, “Shove it.” She was just making fun of the fact that I was on my high school’s dance team.

She also found a guy, but she’s just flailing her arms around like a lunatic. Lucky for her, she’s hot, so her dancing partner doesn’t seem to mind.

Amine and I are full on grinding at this point, and he spins me around to face him. He also raises my arms up and around his neck.

“Having fun?”

I nod. He smells amazing—like sandalwood and citrus.

When the music quiets down he asks, “Do you want a drink?”

“Sure!”

“What will it be?”

“Just a white wine, please.”

But I go with him. Another thing Collin made sure I knew was to never take my eyes off a drink after it leaves the bartender’s hands. I have no reason to think Amine is dangerous, but a woman can never be too careful.

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