Page 120 of Kissing is the Easy Part

“Unbelievable. Just when I was starting to like you.”

“You’ll come around. They always do. By the way, post-prom party at my place. Please come.” He claps me on the shoulder before disappearing back into the crowd.

* * *

A commotion at the gym entrance pulls my attention.

Flora arrives alone, fashionably late, as expected. She moves through the crowd like moonlight on water, leaving ripples in her wake. It’s impossible to ignore her existence. She slows time itself.

I force myself to look away.

Or try to.

Her dress is bare backed, held together by a few absurdly thin strings. Josie is talking about a summer class she wants to take, and I try to focus, but it’s like studying enzyme kinetics in front of a flashing neon sign.

Then Brian shows up in a tux, limo waiting outside. Josie laughs, actually blushes, and ditches me without a second thought.

Raymond and Madison are crowned Prom King and Queen—no surprises there. I scan the room again.

Flora stands at the drink table, pouring herself a glass of water. She sets it down.

Her eyes catch mine across the room, and the lights reflect off them. They’re warm as chocolate, sweet to drink in and ultimately to drown in.

Turn away. Even cavemen learned their lesson after the first burn. But this is Flora, and when it comes to her, logic and self-preservation don’t stand a chance.

I blame her dress, mostly.

My heart pounds against my ribs. It’s reckless, maybe even self-destructive, but it’s so wrong to end senior year without at least one dance with Flora.

So I make my way toward her.

Chapter Forty-one

Flora

You know that moment in romantic comedies when the guy and the girl spot each other across a crowded room? Their eyes cut past all the irrelevant people, the background noise fades, and everything turns to slow motion. Strangers step aside in a trance to make way for them.

Yeah, that’s not what happens. But Sean does find me from across the gym. And from the safety of this distance, I let myself stare back. He’s temptation in a suit, and I am nothing if not weak. As he moves closer, my pulse quickens.

Is this a fresh start or our grand finale? Is he here to talk or just extending a polite courtesy—one last dance before we fade to black?

And now he’s right in front of me, tall and lean, and the color of his tie even matches my dress.

“Would you like to dance?” His voice is soft, but it carries great power.

I can’t speak. It’s a simple sentence, but coming from him, it can unravel me. I place one hand on his shoulder, and he takes my other hand. We both halt at the touch. With us, everything carries an undertone of intimacy. A dance isn’t just a dance, and fingers are more than fingers.

His other hand slides onto my back, resting below my shoulderblades. My body tightens as his palm warms my bare skin. We start moving to the music, and I relish being so rightfully close to him.

“You look great in silver, Flora.”

I shake my head, deeply disappointed. “Sean, I expected better from you. This is gunmetal gray.”

He smiles and it stops my heart. It’s a real smile, the kind that’s been in short supply lately.

“So this dance . . .” I gaze up at him. “Does this mean you’re ready to be friends, or is this the last time you’re going to talk to me?”

“If we’re being honest . . . I want to be friends eventually, but right now I just want to dance with you. One more time.”