Page 128 of Perfume Girl
“I was stung by a bee. I’m allergic to them.”
“That could have been fatal.” He looked concerned. “Do you carry an EpiPen in case you’re stung again?”
“Always.”
“Someone found you, obviously. I’m guessing it wasn’t your mom.”
“I was found unconscious and barely hanging onto life by a neighbor who had seen me go in there. They carried me out and called an ambulance. All the while my mum was asleep upstairs.”
“Thank goodness for nosy neighbors.”
“This one saved my life.”
“What was it like growing up in foster care? Did you ever get adopted?”
“No.”
“Isn’t that how it’s meant to happen?”
“Yes. I always hoped that someday someone would come and save me.”
“Let me save you,” he said softly.
“Not sure I need saving now.”
“What about you?” he said. “Tell me something about you I don’t know.”
“I just did.”
He shook his head. “Something that makes you happy.”
I rested my hands on my hips. “Would you believe I can salsa dance?”
“Really?”
“Really and truly.”
Joy flashed across Astor’s face and then he grabbed his phone and scrolled through it.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
The song “Havana” blared out of his iPhone, its beat enough to have me swinging my hips and laughing at what he was suggesting.
Astor was going to dance with me right here in the midst of a storm.
He moved to the tempo with an expert swing. “Ready?”
I laughed. “I was born ready.”
All those lessons hadn’t gone to waste.
He wrapped his arm around my waist and swung me around and around. Then he suddenly let go and we were mirroring each other with the sexy dance moves, stepping fast, our feet moved in sync with each other. He grabbed me again and swung me around and around as we dodged the mattress, dancing wildly around the room.
“Wow,” he called out. “You have rhythm.”
“But we already knew that,” I shouted over the music.
“Ha! Yes we did, Raquel.”
