When I reach the edge of the dance floor, I stop.
She's watching me, chest rising and falling from dancing, waiting.
I hold out my hand.
"Dance with me."
For a second, she doesn't move. Just looks at my hand, then my face. Like she's not sure she heard me right.
Then she smiles.
It's not the careful smile from earlier. Not the one she uses to cover hurt. This one is real, breaking across her face slow and surprised, and something in my chest cracks wide open.
"You sure about that?" she asks, eyes bright. "You're a terrible dancer."
The lightness in her voice makes me want to pull her close right now. Skip the dancing entirely.
"That right?"
"I've seen the evidence." She's grinning now. "Multiple times."
"That was—"
"Three separate occasions," she cuts in. "And you stepped on my boots. Repeatedly."
"You didn't move."
"Because you told me not to."
I huff a laugh. "So is that a no?"
"No." She reaches for my hand, still smiling. "That's a yes."
Her fingers slip into mine, warm and slightly damp from dancing, and the feel of her hand in mine after five years hits harder than it should. I pull her closer, my other hand finding her waist—
"Well, well."
Cole's voice cuts through the moment like a knife.
Hazel's hand tightens in mine before she pulls away. We both turn.
"Hazel," he says, nodding. Then his gaze slides to me, amused. "Dawson. Some habits die hard, huh?"
I step forward. "You should keep moving."
Cole ignores me, attention settling back on Hazel. "Mae give any more thought to my offer?"
The question lands exactly how he means it to. Public. Direct.
Hazel's voice is tight. "When Mae wants to discuss business, she'll call you."
"Of course." Cole shrugs, easy. "Just seems like the kind of decision that shouldn't wait too long. Market being what itis." His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Hate to see her wait until there's no choice left."
I step closer. "She said no."
Cole finally looks at me, amused. "Did she? Or is that you deciding for her?"
"Back off, Cole."
