Page 87 of Off the Wall

Of course I realize she’s talking about the shift from the quartet to the DJ, but I can’t help thinking about the limited time we have before I pack up and move across the country.

“I don’t dance.”

She scoffs. “Don’t orwon’t?”

“More likecan’t.”

She pretends to gawk. “You mean to tell me there’s something Cash Briggs isn’t brilliant at?”

“Yeah.” I expel a breath. “The list is longer than you think.”

“You got me to ride a bike,” she says. “The least I can do is return the favor.” She reaches for my hand, and the softness of her skin sends a shock straight to my core. “Come on,” she urges. “Hayden and Jasper will be making their grand entrance soon, and by then the quartet will be packed up.” As she drags me across the grass, I let myself be led.

“There’s no dance floor over here,” I say. A weak protest at best.

“We’ll make our own dance floor,” she says. Her hand trails behind her, our fingers entwined. The memory of us together in the hallway just two nights ago flashes in my brain. How am I going to voluntarily walk away from this woman?

The better question iswhyam I walking away?

“Here.” Nori pulls to a stop in front of the exact tree where I was standing earlier. The rest of the guests are milling around the tent waiting for the bride and groom. “All you have to do is plant your feet and sway. I’ll do the rest.”

“Plant my feet and sway,” I repeat.

“See?” Her lip edges up. “You’re a natural already.”

She comes toward me, putting her free hand on my opposite shoulder. I’m definitely planted now, but I haven’t started swaying yet. I’m too transfixed by the thought of being this close to Nori again.

She steps into my arms and tips her face up, letting her palm rest on my chest. I may not know how to dance, but Idoknow how to hold a woman. So I slide a hand up the middle of her spine, where the deep scoop of her dress leaves the skin exposed. She’s so warm and soft, all I want to do is bring my jaw down to nuzzle her neck.

We begin to move together, side to side, while the song sets the pace. The melody is slow and full of longing. Nori’s chin drops until her mouth is closer to my shoulder than my ear. Then she starts to sing, so quietly I have to duck to hear the words.

I don’t know these lyrics.

They’re about someone who’s feeling lost. A woman who’s been waiting a long time for a man to show up and…I don’t know—give her some direction? She says she’s a lamb looking for her shepherd. And my heart beats hard as Nori’s voice—all soft breaths against my chest—reveals a different side to her.

Yes, she wants to make her own way in this life, but she’s also vulnerable. And I’ve let myself be vulnerable with her too. The truth is, no matter how hard people try to prove they can survive alone, humans need each other. Nori needs somebody.

We’re a whole hand now.

A boulder of pain rolls across my ribs, slivering into shards that prickle my chest. Noriisgoing to find someone to watch over her.

And that someone won’t be me.

When the final bars of the song drift off into the night, Nori and I sway for a couple more beats. Then she steps out of my arms, shaking off the moment. “See?” She squares her shoulders. “That wasn’t too terrible, was it?”

I shake my head wordlessly.

“So the next time you’re at a wedding reception, you won’t have any excuses not to dance.”

“Right.” My solar plexus goes rigid. It’ll be a while before I’m invited to any weddings in California. I won’t know anyone out there. “Thanks.”

Nori cocks her head. “I’dalmostlet you teach me to swim now, except you’re not staying long enough.”

“We’ve got a month,” I blurt, just to torture myself. Like I don’t already know how this ends.

“The pool water is still way too cold for me.” She drops her gaze. “And we probably shouldn’t start something we can’t finish.”

“No. Probably not.”

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