I point to the piper’s strange instrument, and Callum leans down to hear me as I ask, “What’s that?”
“Reel pipes.” He’s tapping his feet in time, and I find I am too. The rhythm pulses like a heartbeat. I can’tnotmove.
People spill onto the lawn. Like iron filings drawn by a magnet, they arrange themselves precisely into groups of four.
Callum jiggles my hand. “Ready?”
The dancers begin all kinds of complicated, organized twirling—like in a Jane Austen movie, but with dirt and laughter.
And a lot more closeness.
Men take every chance they get to sidle closer to women, linking arms, stealing kisses. They’re rewarded with gentle pinches and swats. And laughter. Always more laughter.
Everyone looks so free. So easy. I don’t know if I’ve ever been either one. I’m afraid I wouldn’t know how.
Callum is waiting for my answer.
I shake my head and blurt, “I’ve never danced like that.”
I feel his breath on my cheek as he leans close and says, “I’ll teach you.”
I freeze in place.
I’m not smooth in the best of circumstances. Not at dancing, and especially not with close-whispering guys.
“Looks complicated,” I say, even though the steps are shaping up to be the least complicated thing about tonight.
“Maybe later,” I say finally. “But you should dance. Totally.”
I give him a light shove, but Callum is a wall of granite. He simply stands. Waiting.
When it becomes clear I won’t change my mind, he gives me a rueful nod. “As you wish.”
He steers me from the action and situates me ona bench.
“Certain you’ll be all right?”
“Certain.” I give him another shove.
“Noo aff wi’ you,” I say in my best imitation of Aoife’s accent. But as I watch him walk away, my chest sinks. Only I would find myself in such a different place and remain the exact same me.
I resolve to find some guts…then promptly take it back the moment a body appears in front of me. It’s a man with close-cropped hair and ears like dessert plates protruding from his head.
And—oh crap—he’s saying something.
I mumble some words that I hope sound likeyeah, nice night, please go away.
Unfortunately, he takes it as an invitation to move closer. My gaze finds Callum, who is dancing. Just like I told him to. Dancing and laughing and twirling some girl.
My cheeks burn for the kind of woman I wish I was.
The guy repeats himself, louder this time. He’s no more intelligible than before, only now his words hit me on a cloud of sour, beery breath.
I grit my teeth into a smile and lean away. Context would indicate he’s asking me to dance, but how should I know? What if I say ‘no’ and it turns out he’s asked if I’d mind a kiss?
I’m a deer in headlights.
The guy takes a step closer, looming over me now. He darts a glance left and right, acting like he’s found a twenty on the floor and wants to make sure nobody’s around to see him take it. He eyes the seat next to me on the bench.
