“Do you want to dance later?” “No.” “No?” she echoed laughingly. “I can’t dance with you,” he scoffed. “Why not?” “I can’t touch you. God. I can’t even look at you.” “But you’re going to do a lot more than—” He held up a hand. “Later. That’s later. I’ll see you later.” “Are you going to go back to ignoring me until then?” “Yes. Yes, I am.”
