Page 41 of Keep It

My heart is pounding, not from the dancing — which is really more of a coordinated swaying — but from the hard chest pressing against my front. I’m trapped in his azure eyes. His tongue pokes out between his lips, sweeping across his bottom lip. I look back up at him, my mouth going dry.

His warm palm lowers until it’s indecently resting at the base of my spine.

I take a deep breath in, leaning my head towards him, begging for those final few centimeters to disappear and his lips to be on mine.

The band changes the song to an upbeat swing number, which is more suited to a post-war ball room than whatever charged atmosphere we have created in our own little world. Danny blinks and steps back, a sly grin stealing across his mouth.

Before I can open my mouth, Danny straightens his arm and sends me spinning away from him. I yelp as I attempt to gracefully spin like the other dancers on the floor. He pulls me back to his chest and I giggle, the tension from earlier dissolving into laughter.

Danny continues to spin me on the dance floor, our intimate dancing forgotten and replaced with terrible attempts to swing dance. He spins me on the dance floor until my cheeks hurts from laughing. We escape the crowd to down the champagne, before spinning back onto the floor.

Eventually, when the champagne runs dry and the band starts to pack up, Danny pulls me towards the exit.

“Home time,” he murmurs in my ear as we step out into the street.

I fumble with my phone, and order a car, automatically sending it to his hotel.

I step away from him, the cool evening air sizzling the heat from my body. The car arrives immediately, and it’s second nature for me to clamber in the back seat beside him. If Danny thinks it’s strange, he doesn’t say.

The ride to his hotel is quiet and goes by far too quickly. When we pull up in front, Danny pauses with his hand on the door. “You coming?” he asks, his voice rough.

I gulp. “I’ll come make sure you get in safely.”

Danny nods, his eyes darkening. He runs around the back of the car and pulls my door open for me. Flustered, I step out and take his waiting hand.

He doesn’t let me go as he tugs me through the lobby of the hotel and into the elevator.

On his floor, the elevator doors clang shut behind us. The dim lamplight in the hallway illuminates his face, leaving the gentle stubble on his jaw in the shade.

Suddenly nervous, I push my hair behind my ear and turn to him. “Well, I can safely say you’re back in your room.”

He nods and then looks back at his door. “I’m not technically inside yet.”

“No.”

“Maybe you should just, y’know, wait to make sure I’m inside. Safely.”

“Ye—yes. Just to be safe.” I’m barely breathing.

He turns and unlocks the door, peeking over his shoulder. I don’t know where to look, so I admire the rouge wallpaper decorating the corridor. I’m just doing my job, escorting him home. That’s all.

He opens the door and turns to me. Our bodies are less than a foot away from each other. If I take one little step forward I would be inside his hotel room. Another step and the door could close behind me.

“It’s not very safe,” he says, his voice thick. “Until the door’s closed.”

I clear my throat. “Right.”

He takes a shallow breath, his eyes darting to my lips. I lick them nervously, my heart beating in my ears, and I take that tiny step. He swings the door closed behind me.

Our bodies are pressed together now. I stand still, afraid to move, afraid to speak, afraid to acknowledge this moment. I can feel his warm breath on my cheek.

He raises his hand, slowly, as if giving me time to move away. My feet are heavy and weighted to the floor. My body is frozen, caught in the taught air between us. His hand slowly brushes against my cheek, placing his hand behind my ear.

“It’s safe now,” he says, softly.

I look into his blue eyes, the pupils dark. My breath catches in my throat.

“I should leave,” I whisper.

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