My eyes fell closed as we swayed together, letting the music and the breeze move us more than consciously trying to do anything specific. Harvey smelled of my shampoo and soap, of the aftershave he always wore, and under that, just a tiny bit of wet goat.
I smiled at the memory of him flailing after it, and threatening to turn it into a wallet.
“I like it when you smile,” he murmured beside my cheek, brushing his lips against my skin. “I hope it’s about something dirty.”
I chuckled. “Kinda,” I said. “I was thinking about you in the mud.”
“That was outright filthy.” Harvey laughed, shifting to press a kiss to my hair and then burying his nose in it.
I laughed as well, letting the music wash over me and the peace of the evening settle into my bones. The night air was cool and sweet, the warmth of Harvey’s body just enough to keep me comfortable.
This was the happiest I’d ever been.
“Look at the two of us,” Harvey murmured after another few moments. “Dancing under the stars.”
I looked up to see the clouds clearing, the moon shining down on us, and the stars out in their thousands, like glitter spilled on black velvet.
“Everyone’slooking at the two of us,” I said, aware of what felt like a hundred pairs of eyes on me.
“Let ‘em look,” Harvey whispered, his eyes closing as he leaned in for a kiss.
This one was different. Tentative, soft and gentle, like the first time a nervous teenager kissed his first boyfriend, crackling with promise and potential.
I was breathless by the time Harvey broke off, staring into his dark eyes likewewere the ones dancing on the moon now.
Harvey looked just as surprised as I was.
The song finished, the last notes fading out as our breath started to fog in front of us.
“One more dance?” I asked, hopeful, not wanting to let this moment go just yet.
“One more dance.” Harvey smiled.
23
Harvey
“Harvey,”a familiar voice called to me just as I was heading for the hot chocolate bar, blanket thrown over my arm to bring back to Iggy. The sun had well and truly set now, and the night air was getting cold.
“Dante,” I said. “What can I do for you?”
“You escaped me at the bachelor party,” Dante said. “I never got the chance to read your palm.”
In the time it took me to realize I needed to come up with an excuse to save myself, Dante had already grabbed my hand.
“I don’t know if—”
“What, are you afraid of what I’ll see?” Dante looked up, challenge in his eyes.
“No,” I said.
But I knew as soon as I said it that it was a lie. What if hedidsee something I didn’t want him to?
I knew Iggy didn’t believe him for a second, but I got the impression that even if Dante wasn’t psychic—which he probably wasn’t—he was still good at readingpeople.
But it was too late now to stop him.
“Wow,” Dante said. “Your heart line is… it’s… certainly a thing.”
