Page 63 of Kickoff

“Hey Mase, you came?” someone asked.

“The king is back,” someone else shouted.

“Can I have a dance?” a girl whose name I couldn't recall asked, her fingers tracing the length of my arm as we passed her.

“Nope.” Leaning closer, I spoke in Melinda’s ear. “Ignore them.”

Ribbons of balloons marked the perimeter of the makeshift dance floor. A live band, the lead singer being a girl in my Calculus class, played on a stage against the far wall. Melinda and I positioned ourselves front and center.

“Mason Pierce, I didn’t know you could dance,” she remarked when my arms closed in on each side of her waist.

“Just with you.”

“Is this the line you feed every girl?”

I despised the hidden message her words carried. “I never feed lines. I only speak the truth.”

“Oh.”

“If you haven’t caught up with the fact yet, it’s true. I don’t have time to play games.”

Standing closer to each other than we ever did before, except the night I saved her life, we exchanged smiles and swayed to the rhythm of the music.

A slow country song started playing, and I stepped forward, killing the remaining distance between us. Our chests collided, and the beat of Melinda’s heart synced with mine. The side of my face grazed hers, and I relished the shivers traveling down her body.

All my cells reacted to her presence.

At the friction, a whimper rumbled low in her chest, and my body got electrified.

I had no idea what I was doing. Heat washed through me.

Melinda’s arms looped around my neck, keeping me close.

Her orange blossom scent enveloped me.

The softness of her skin against mine was all I could feel.

Curtis Burns sang about love and second chances, about forgiveness and happily-ever-after.

Leaning forward, I dropped a chaste kiss on her cheek.

“Mase… what are you⁠—”

Before she could finish her sentence, and fearing she would tell me to stop, I pulled her tighter against me so she had no choice but to bury her face in my chest. “Shhh, let’s enjoy now.”

My mind, my body, my heart, they all hated me at that instant. I shut the voices in my head telling me to jump headfirst and leave my fears behind.

The what-ifs prevented me from acting on what my entire being desired.

Instead, I burned to my memory every second of us. This would have to do for now.

Melinda’s hands moved to my chest, and she fisted my shirt as if she was afraid I would vanish.

Pride bubbled inside me. Perhaps I could be the one she needed after all, and my fears were silly.

For the rest of the night, we danced, chatted with our friends, made silly poses in the photo booth, and enjoyed ourselves.

We returned to the dance floor for the last song of the night.