moved through me with startling force.
Then she exhaled.
She stepped closer, and the side of her forehead rested just beneath my jaw. I could smell her shampoo and a faint sweetness from the cake. The world narrowed to the weight of her hand and the terrible ease of wanting to remain exactly where I was.
When the song ended, neither of us moved.
“Does that count?” she asked.
“The dance does.”
She lifted her head.
I could see how carefully she was waiting.
“But I need to know whether
