Taking both my hands in his, he towed me into the middle of the fray. The song that was playing was one I knew and liked with an added house beat and synthesizer. Standing still in the middle of the dancing crowd I immediately felt self-conscious and my eyes kept darting to the people around us, watching to see if they were watching me. Lucas put his hands on my shoulders, drawing my eyes to his face.
“Don’t worry about them,” he said. “They don’t care what you’re doing. All they care about is looking hot.”
I smirked and his smile joined mine.
“Just look at me. Keep your eyes on mine,” he said. “Don’t look away.”
I nodded yes, but I didn’t think I’d be able to do it. I was terrible at keeping eye contact. Even when I was having a conversation with someone I would find myself staring at the wall behind their head. I didn’t like the feeling of being looked at, examined. It always made me feel as though the person looking was trying to figure me out. Then again, I didn’t seem to mind when Lucas looked at me. And looking at Lucas, well, that wasn’t what I would call hard. Actually, it was pretty damn easy.
As I stared into those big golden eyes of his, I felt Lucas place his hands on my waist. Instinctively, I felt my body tense and I was surprised that he didn’t say anything about it. He just left his hands there and kept his eyes on mine until I slowly felt my muscles relax.
“Now, I want you to move like I move,” he said. “Put your hands here.”
He placed my hands on his hips so we were mirroring each other. I nearly laughed. This felt very much like an elementary school dance. Then he started to move his hips and I felt his fingers digging into mine, encouraging me to do the same, and suddenly all thoughts of elementary school were gone.
I could feel the taut muscles of his stomach through his shirt. I wanted so much to look down at his body, to touch his chest, but that would mean breaking eye contact. My hips began to mimic his movements, moving much slower than the music, and he smiled at me, showing off his dimples, as our rhythm fell into sync. He ran one hand up my back and then back down again, sending a shiver down my spine, and then I felt the gentle pressure of his palm, pushing me forward until we were hip to hip. I forgot about keeping eye contact at that point—I sort of forgot about everything—and pressed my cheek into his shoulder, looping my arms around his neck.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered into my ear.
And I did.
The music throbbed around us, keeping our hips in motion and wiping out almost everything else except the feeling of his chest against mine and his hands holding me. I didn’t have a thought in my head. I certainly didn’t know and didn’t care if anyone was watching us. I didn’t know anything except that I loved this feeling of oblivion, of disappearing into the music, of being here with him. I felt one of his hands cupping the back of my head, his fingers moving through my hair. I clung to him and danced.
We were both sweaty when we finally pulled apart. His hand was still in my hair.
“How’d you do that?” I said to him. He was staring down at me so intently I wasn’t sure he would answer.
“Do what?” he finally said.
“Make the world disappear.”
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