Marco appears with impressive timing. "Same again?"
"Yup," I confirm, not breaking eye contact with Bash.
Marco works his magic, and moments later, two more vibrant shots appear.
We clink glasses and down the shots. The sweetness coats my tongue, and the warmth of the alcohol spreads through me. The music shifts, and the opening beats of "Levitating" pulse through the speakers.
"Oh my god, I love this song!" The words tumble out of me as my body already starts moving to the rhythm.
Without thinking, I grab Bash's hand and pull him toward the dance floor. His fingers intertwine with mine instantly, warm and secure. The crowd has thickened, forcing us closer together as we navigate through swaying bodies.
We find a small pocket of space, and I turn to face him, already moving to the beat. His hands find my waist naturally. The shots have eliminated any remaining hesitation, and I let myself melt into the music, into the moment.
Bash moves with surprising rhythm for someone so tall, his body in perfect sync with mine. The lights flash across his face, highlighting the sharp angle of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes as they remain fixed on me.
"You really know this song," he says with a smile as I mouth along to every word.
"It's my jam!" I shout over the music, raising my arms above my head and letting the beat take over.
I turn my back and press against him, feeling the momentary tension in his body. His hands find my hips immediately, steadying me as I move against him.
I respond instinctively, rolling my hips in time with the beat, feeling his grip tighten on my waist.
"Jesus, Charlie," he murmurs against my ear, and I feel a thrill of satisfaction.
The music pulses through me, low and heavy like a second heartbeat. I continue to roll my hips, grinding back into him and feel his resolve as his hands explore my waist. His chest is solid against my back, his breath warm at my neck. I raise my arms, letting my head fall back against him, the lights blurring into streaks of color above me.
For a moment, I lose myself in it. The rhythm, the heat, the way his body moves with mine like we’ve done this a thousand times before. It’s electric, intoxicating, and I don’t care who’s watching or what it means. Right now, it’s just the music and the way his fingers are exploring my body like he’s holding on for dear life.
I turn to face him, our chests almost touching, and look up. His eyes are dark, focused, and there’s a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"You’re trouble," he says. His hands drop to my hips again, pulling me closer.
"Me?" I tilt my head, feigning innocence. "I’m just dancing."
"Yeah, well, keep dancing like that and we might have a problem."
"A problem?" I grin, spinning away from him and then back, my hair twirling with me. "Or a solution?"
He laughs, a deep, warm sound that sends a shiver down my spine. "You’re impossible."
"And yet, here you are." I step closer, my lips brushing his ear. "Still dancing with me."
His hands slide to the small of my back, pulling me back against him. "Not exactly planning to stop either."
The song shifts, the beat slowing slightly, but we don’t pull apart. If anything, we move closer, our bodies swaying as the music wraps around us. His chin brushes the top of my head, and I feel the rumble of his voice when he speaks.
"So, how many of those Purple Hazes until you admit you’re having fun?"
"Who says I’m not?" I lean back just enough to meet his gaze.
"Just checking." His smirk widens. "Wouldn’t want to be the only one enjoying myself."
"Oh, trust me." I let my hands slide up his arms, feeling the muscles tense under my touch. "You’re not."
As I revel in the moment, my brain chooses this exact moment to betray me.
Have Ethan and his new shiny fiancée danced like this?
