“What are we doing?” I whisper as we sway in tune to the melody of the music, his hands on my body guiding us. “It would be a shame for you to look this beautiful and not have someone ask you to dance.” “We’ve danced before, Thatch.” “And just as I told you then, that was a distraction,” he corrects, stiffening his grip on my hand before pushing me outward. I squeak as my body spins, his arm raised high in order to keep me twirling. My dress lifts, fabric whirling in the star-soaked night. I don’t notice the smile on my lips until it makes the edge of my eyes crinkle. When he pulls me back
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