He shrugs. “I have a feeling the DJ is going to play another slow song. He’s been on a kick.”
I throw my hands in the air. “Right? I don’t know what his damage is, but it’s like he’s getting paid per slow song.”
Connor’s eyes go to the refreshment table.
A thumping, that can’t be blamed on the music, starts in my chest. “Connor, is he getting paid per slow song?”
The music transitions into another romantic song.
He ignores my question and points to one of the speakers. “Told you they’d play another one. Dance with me?”
I narrow my eyes at him.
Unperturbed, he puts his hand out in front of him,urging me to take it. I place my palm in his as he leads me to the dance floor. We don’t go to the middle, just far enough so that we’re not on the edge where all the non-dancers can see us as well. Connor lifts the hand holding mine, and puts his free one on my waist. I imagine it’s a standard dance position from cotillion. One I never learned since I couldn’t afford it.
“That okay?” he asks.
I nod, but I’m not really sure where to set my other hand or how to move my feet. As excited as I was to come out here with Connor, I’m having doubts it will go how I hoped. I bite my bottom lip. “I don’t know how to dance.”
He laughs. “Just move back and forth.”
“Aren’t you supposed to count to three or something?”
His eyebrows scrunch together. “You want to do the waltz to John Legend?”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“Stop thinking so hard, for one.” He moves us slightly closer to the center as another couple joins the dance floor. Then, he steps back and forth leading me.
My free hand settles on his shoulder. “So, about the DJ. Did you really pay him to play a bunch of slow songs?”
He takes a deep breath. “I wanted to make sure I danced with you tonight. After I couldn’t find you for the first couple, I got desperate.”
“You could have just texted me?”
“I wanted to ask you in person, but every time a slow song came on, I couldn’t find you. Where were you hiding?”
I don’t want to admit I was doing everything I could to pretend I didn’t care about being solo tonight. “Did you even consider that I was out here dancing with someone else?”
He leans in close. “I did, and the thought drove me crazy.”
Oh.I trip over my feet, and his grip on my waist tightens to keep me from falling.
“But you weren’t. I would have seen you.”
“Is that so?”
“Yep. So I offered the DJ fifty bucks for every slow song he played until he saw me dancing with the gorgeous girl in the light blue dress.”
My eyes widen. Fifty bucks per song just for a chance to dance with me? I don’t know if I should be flattered or appalled. I can’t imagine spending that much to get someone’s attention—until I remember the price tag on this dress. I bought it just to get his attention. I guess that makes us even. “Well, now that we’re dancing, does that mean we only get fast songs from here on out?”
“I think I can afford a few more songs if you’re really that worried about tearing yourself from me.” He navigates us a little closer to the DJ table and lifts up a finger. The DJ salutes him back.
Another fifty dollars just like that. It’s insane, but the way he didn’t even hesitate makes me feel all warm and gooey. Apparently all my conviction about too many slow songs goes out the window when I realize that they come at a cost. Though I do feel bad for the chaperones. “PoorMr. Smith. He’s going to have a stroke if he has to separate any more couples.”
“He’ll get over it. But I’d really like to not talk about him right now, if you don’t mind.” He pulls me closer. As he does, I smell a familiar, woodsy scent, one I deeply associate with Connor even though he doesn’t always wear cologne. In fact, now that I think about it, I don’t think he’s worn it since we almost kissed.
But he’s wearing it tonight.
