Page 104 of With a Little Luck

She makes a sound that’s almost a chuckle, but it’s quiet and distracted.

We stop dancing and Ari tilts her face up toward mine.

We are close. Really close. She is breathtaking, and I don’t know how I managed to pretend otherwise for so long. How have I never paid any attention to the way my heart aches when she touches me? And this tingling in my lips—is it new, or am I just now recognizing it for what it is?

“Ari,” I murmur, even though I don’t know what I want to say. I just want to say her name. Just want to hear it, and know she’s here, and this is real, this is actually happening, and …

My fingers curl into the fabric of her T-shirt.

Ari inhales, a quick, wavering breath. But she doesn’t pull away, and she’s looking at my lips, and I—263

I slip.

I’m not evenmovingand yet, somehow, my heel catches on a slick spot from the mop water and next thing I know, I’m falling backward, pulling Ari down with me. We both yelp and land in a heap, Ari halfway on top of me, her elbow in my stomach. Pain ricochets from my butt all the way up my spine from landing on the hard floor.

I groan.

“What just happened?” says Ari. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I slipped. You okay?”

“Yeah. Mostly surprised.”

I meet her gaze, still cringing from the pain. Ari is on her side, propped up on one palm, her hand on my chest, legs tangled with mine, and despite my bruised backside and my bruised ego … this isn’t a terrible place to be, either.

Until the door to the record store swings open, the string of bells rattling as loud as a fire alarm.

Wemight be on fire for as fast as we pull away from each other.

“Ari!” shrieks Pru, hurrying toward us and waving her phone in the air. “You are never going to believe this!”

264

Chapter Thirty-Four

Pru freezes then, frowning at us on the floor. “What’sgoing on?”

“Nothing,” we both shout, scrambling to our feet. I don’t notice the song coming to an end until the next song on the album starts to play—the jaunty and disturbing “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer,” which is not romantic in the least, thank you, music gods.

“I slipped,” I stammer. “Why are you here?” I look at the clock—it’s after ten.

Pru looks at the mop and the damp spots on the floor, and her effusive smile returns. “Dad said you stayed late at the store, and I wanted to show Ari this in person. Ari’s gone viral!”

“Viral?” says Ari, sounding only a tiny bit breathless. “What do you mean?”

She’s collected herself a hell of a lot quicker than I have. She seems almost unaffected by that … thing … that almost happened, whereas I am doing my best to will the heat from my face. I busy myself by going over and stopping the record player. Then I put my hands in my pockets to keep them from shaking and wish, for the thousandth time this week, that my dice was there when I reached for it.

So either Ari is a way better actor than I am, or—that thing that almost happened was more in my head than hers. Because I’m pretty sure that I almost kissed Ari, that I definitelywouldhave kissed her if Pru hadn’t come barging in. Was I just imagining the way Ari was leaning in265closer? The way her eyes were beginning to close? Was I trying to interpret signals that weren’t actually there?

Ari has always been affectionate. The sort of friend who isn’t embarrassed to hug you goodbye or snuggle into your side during the scary parts of a movie or do a thousand other little things that I would have thought were flirting if it was anyone else.

Just because she asked me to dance on this perfect, wide-open dance floor doesn’t mean she wanted me to kiss her. It was just … Ari. Being Ari.

Wasn’t it?

I’m so caught up in my thoughts that it takes me a hot second to get caught up on whatever Pru is so excited about, though she’s been rambling nonstop since she interrupted us. Which I’m glad she did.

Obviously.

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