I swallow, suddenly feeling nervous to admit that I came all this way just to see her. That’s what the guys said to do, but…I don’t know that I can go that far out on a limb. I’ve never said anything like that to her before, and I’m not sure how she’s going to react.
I shift from one foot to the other. “I, uh—had something I wanted to…”
“Oh my gosh, is that giant man stuttering?! He’s so adorable.”
Bree looks over my shoulder to where that whispered comment came from. “Back in the studio or you’re all doing ten minutes of push-ups before class is over!” Such a drill sergeant. I wonder if these girls find her threatening. I just want to kiss her.
Bree turns away and motions for me to follow. Looks like we’re going to squeeze into her tiny office now. I’m so used to Bree not wanting to be in any sort of close quarters with me that as I eye the two feet of available standing room, I accidentally give her a look of hesitation.
Her eyes widen with impatience and she waves me in. “Come on, hurry up. This is the only place we can talk privately, and I need to get back in there soon.”
As I step into her packing-box-of-an-office, I’m reminded of the finally-legal sensation. You know? It’s that feeling when you order your first beer on your twenty-first birthday, the bartender studies your ID, and for a split second, you break out in a sweat because you’re so used to always having to sell the fake one. But this one is real, he slides a beer across the table, and you get to drink it without fear of punishment. That’s what being invited to stand in this minuscule room with Bree feels like.
Her desk takes up most of the space, the backs of her legs pressed up against it to make room for me to shut the door. I can’t get it to close behind my back though; I have no choice but to step closer to Bree until we are touching. NO CHOICE, I TELL YOU! My chin is resting above her head. Now the sweet scent of coconut overpowers all the others. When we’re chest to chest, I’m able to scoot the door shut behind me. It scrapes my back as it passes, and I hope it leaves a mark so I can always remember this moment.
The door latches, and for some reason, I don’t move away. Bree doesn’t push me back either. Instead, she looks up, eyes searching mine. A hair has fallen loose from her bun and is dangling by the side of her face. Without a second thought, my hand rises and I brush my fingertips across her cheekbone, tucking the hair gently behind her ear. She sucks in a quick breath, her lips parting. She’s so damn pretty. Soft and sweet, but also vibrant and sharp. Is that how kissing her would taste?
I drop my hand from her ear to skim down the side of her arm. Her lashes fall to watch the path my hand takes until it lands right beside hers, knuckles touching lightly. Her deep brown eyes pop back up to mine, and it’s like time stands still. We’re frozen together. Something about the way she’s looking at me tells me if I bent down to kiss her right now, she’d let me. I don’t know who initiates it first, but our fingers shift and climb toward the other’s until they’re loosely intertwined.
My heart is in my throat. No, it’s in my hands. I’m holding it out here for her to take.
Suddenly, the air fills with the opening notes of “Let’s Get It On” by Marvin Gaye, and giggles erupt beyond the wall.
Bree lets out a high-pitched growl and steps to the side so she can bang the side of her fist against the wall. Our hands unlink. “Hey! Turn that off!”
They don’t obey. More giggles.
I bite my lip to keep from smiling, and Bree doesn’t appreciate it.
“It’s not funny!” she says in a sad, defeated tone.
“Come on? It’s so funny,” I say, giving in to a full smile.
Bree relents with a smile of her own and shakes her head. “Fine, it’s a little funny.”
I’m not willing to let our moment end quite yet. And if these girls are going to help me out, I’m not going to turn up my nose at the gesture. I stretch out my hand toward Bree. “C’mere, let’s dance.”