Player(15)

“Trust me, Val.”

To dance with him. That was what he meant. I knew it in my brain, but my heart heard something else entirely.

“All right,” I breathed.

He smiled.

His grip tightened.

The beat picked up.

And I flew.

In Sam’s arms, things like physics and gravity no longer existed. I didn’t need to do anything but trust him as he spun me away, my arm flying out in a mirror of his. Another tug and I was back in his arms and spinning with him, then again, he let one hand go and swung me out. He knew exactly when to push and when to pull, how to use the force of our turns to keep me moving, spinning, stepping. I felt like I was in a centrifuge, my weight and his balanced so perfectly. Every time I misstepped, he was there, snagging my hand, my waist. And I settled into the motion, bouncing on the balls of my feet and laughing as he whipped me around the dance floor.

He pulled me in close after a minute, pressing me against his long body and bopping me around a little slower. I couldn’t stop giggling.

He smirked down at me. “See? Told you. Nothing to it.”

I shook my head, smiling up at him. “Easy as pie.”

Sam’s eyes shifted to my lips and stayed there. “I love this lipstick. I’ve never seen you in it before.”

“Well, I can’t exactly play the trumpet in it.”

A chuckle. “No, I guess not.”

“Honestly, I used to be scared to death of it. But thanks to Jeffree Star’s YouTube tutorials, I’m basically a pro. I’m not usually a red lipstick kind of girl. More like a Chapstick-and-a-dash-of-mascara kind of girl.”

His smile tilted, his eyes still on my lips. “Oh, I definitely think you’re a red lipstick kind of girl.” Before I could faint from the compliment, he said, “I’m glad you came tonight.”

I felt myself brighten. “Me too. I swear, it’s impossible to be sad at a place like this.”

He laughed and spun me out, then pulled me back in and bounced us in a quick circle. “This club is my favorite place in the whole world for that reason.”

“Thank you. For inviting me here. For telling that guy at the door who I was.”

“I’m glad Benny found you. I realized too late that I hadn’t gotten your number, and I was a little worried he wouldn’t pick you out of the crowd. But when I saw you in this dress, I knew he’d have spotted you easy.”

I was glad it was dark so he couldn’t see me blush. The golden light highlighted the bridge of his nose, the angle of his cheekbones, the ridge of his brow, casting his eyes into shadow.

“I kind of can’t believe I’m here,” I admitted.

“Why not?”

“Well, because,” I said, as if that explained everything.

A chuckle rumbled through him, and he triple-stepped us in a circle before slowing us down again. “Well, that clears it up.”

“I…I honestly didn’t mean to ask you out or anything. I didn’t think you’d be interested in hanging out with me.”

He frowned. “Why wouldn’t I want to hang out with you?”

God, he’s going to make me say it.

“Well, because…I mean…well, look at you.”

My hand rode his shoulder as he shrugged. “Look at you. Every guy in the club has been watching you tonight.”

I laughed like he’d just told a side-splitter. “That’s sweet, Sam, but—”

“But what? I wouldn’t lie to you, Val. You’re beautiful. A little clumsy and without much of a filter, but you’re interesting. Different.”

I tried to take a breath but couldn’t. Different. That hadn’t sounded like a good thing.

He read my mind or my face, adding, “You’re not like other girls. I’m just glad I finally got you to relax around me. It was making me jittery.”

Another laugh. “This is you jittery? You should teach classes on how to be cool. I’d be first in line.”

“You don’t need classes. I like when you say exactly what’s in your head. It’s refreshing.”

He pulled me into a sweetheart hold, my back to his front, our arms crossed in front of me like a prom picture. I followed his lead as we kicked our feet out in time to the music, and he spun me out, spun me back, and whipped me in a circle again.

When I landed back in his arms, I felt a little dizzy, and it had nothing to do with the spinning.

“So,” he started, “did you actually have questions for me for your friend’s blog?” His smile was conspiratorial. Crooked and charming.

“No,” I admitted. “God, I’m the worst at this. I don’t have any idea how to date—” My eyes snapped up to his. “Not that this is a date. It’s not. I mean, unless you thought it was, and then that would be rad—” Rad? When the fuck have I ever said rad?

I took a breath in the hopes it would quiet the buzzing in my ears.

It didn’t.

His expression was unreadable. “When was the last time you went on a date?”

I swallowed. Hard. “Five years ago,” I confessed quietly.

He said nothing at first, instead taking a moment to swing me around. “I have a hard time believing no one has asked you out in five years.”