Her hands rest on my shoulders as I rock us to the beat.The crowd fades until it’s just us, swaying together, breathing the same air.She tilts her head back slightly, looking up at me with her deep, onyx eyes, and suddenly my feet feel like they’re made of lead.I’m locked in place, captivated by her.
My eyes drop to her lips.The space between us shrinks.
Is this real?
Is thisactuallyhappening?
My heart pounds in my chest, shock and want tangling together in a heady combination that’s clouding every thought.The attraction between us is palpable.
I drop my forehead to hers, a silent question passing between us.When she doesn’t move, I lean in, slow and careful, giving her the chance to pull away.
She doesn’t.
Instead, she rises up just enough to meet me halfway, her breath hitching as our noses brush.My hand tightens at her waist at the same time she curls her hands into my shirt.
But just before our lips touch, a shrill voice comes from behind Sara, breaking our bubble.
“Sara!Oh my god, there you are!”A woman materializes out of nowhere, looping an arm through Sara’s like she’s claiming her prize.“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”When she looks over and notices me standing across from them, her eyes widen.“Oh, I’m sorry.Did I interrupt?”
Sara plasters on a polite smile.“Just a little.”She rolls her eyes, but there’s no malice to it.And no annoyance in her tone.They must be close.
“I knew you had taste, but damn.”
“Sydney,” Sara groans.
“You’re welcome, by the way,” Sydney says to me as she gestures up and down Sara’s body.“Her outfit was entirely influenced by yours truly.”
Sydney must see the heat in my eyes, so she whispers something to Sara that makes her eyes snap to mine and her cheeks pinken.
“Alright, I’ll leave you to it.”And just like that, Sydney disappears into the crowd.
Sara rolls her lips together and then chuckles lightly.“Do you want a drink?”
“Yeah.”I laugh.“I could use one.”
We claim a quiet corner of the bar, half-hidden from the chaos.The music is still loud, but back here it’s muted, like the world decided to give us a little pocket of peace, and we talk.
About nothing.Abouteverything.
I found out the woman who interrupted us was her best friend, Sydney.She has one brother.She loves streaming, but it can be exhausting to be watched all the time.I tell her about my sister, my nephew, my classes—careful not to reveal my side hustle.
We discover we both like quiet mornings and comfort routines, and that words of affirmation is her love language while mine is something called acts of service.We both secretly judge people who hate naps.We both collect small, sentimental things we pretend aren’t sentimental.
I find myself laughing more tonight than I have in months.And it’s all because of her.
11
SARA
“Do you want to come back to my place?”I ask, the words leaving my mouth before I can second-guess them.
His eyebrows lift, surprise flickering across his face—then something darker.Heavier.
Want.Clear and unmistakable.
“Yeah,” he says, voice low.“I really do.”
Our Uber driver, Steve—according to the in-app bio—is a Middle Eastern man in his late fifties, who looks like he’d invite you in for a cup of chai, cookies, and send you home with fruit from his garden.He definitely takes this job very seriously, offering us cold water bottles and even letting us pick the playlist.Music is the last thing on my mind though.All I’ve been able to think about was the almost kiss on the dance floor, the way his arm held me, and the look in his eyes—like I was something precious to him.
