A hand encircles my waist, the pressure light and gentle, and I lean into it, recognizing his scent immediately. “Can I steal you away?” Mick asks close to my ear.

I lean closer to him. “Depends. Do you need me for something?”

His dark eyes grow even darker. “Just you,” he says. He takes my hand and tangles his fingers with mine, giving a gentle tug.

“Excuse me,” I tell his coworkers. “I think someone needs me.” I make it seem like a terrible inconvenience, but, honestly, I like it. I like it a lot. My belly flips as he pulls me onto the dance floor.

“Do you know how to dance?” he asks, as he pulls me close to him and lifts my hands to rest on his shoulders.

I scoff. “Pffttt. Do I know how to dance! Of course, I know how to dance.”

The toe of my shoe bumps his and I nearly trip him, but he catches himself. “Good, because I don’t know how to dance a single step,” he admits with a grin. “You might have to lead.”

“We could always do the prom sway,” I suggest.

“How does that go?”

“Just like this,” I reply as I rock from side to side. He falls into a rhythm with me.

“Are you having any fun at all?” he asks as his thumb draws a circle on my hip.

“Your boss and his wife are very nice. I’ve liked everyone I’ve met so far. Except for the redhead who keeps shooting daggers at me with her eyes.” I look over his shoulder and see her standing with her hands on her hips. “Is that the girl from last night? The redhead with glasses?”

“Her name is Claire. She’s actually the reason you’re here,” he says a bit sheepishly. His cheeks grow pink.

I stop moving. “What do you mean?”

“She told me that if I wanted to be with you, I needed to let you know. And I agreed. So, I invited you here.” He shrugs and lowers his head to stare into my eyes. “I would really like to get to know you. And I hope you’ll go out with me again.”

I say nothing.

“That’s all I want,” he says, like he’s tying a knot on a sneaker. “We can be friends, right?”

“Friendship? That’s all you’re asking of me?”

“Yes, friends. That’s it.” He takes a deep breath. “We can be BFFs. We can braid each other’s hair.” He looks down at my feet. “Your shoes will be way too small for my feet, so sharing footwear is out.”

“That’s kind of gross anyway.” I wrinkle my nose and he laughs.

“What else do BFFs do?”

“They don’t sleep together,” I murmur.

He stops swaying. “Oh, then I’m no longer your BFF. That’s out.”

I poke his chest. “Would you stop it?” But I’m laughing and I realize that I haven’t laughed this much in quite some time. “I like hanging out with you, bestie.”

“I like hanging out with you, Wren.”

The room falls silent as the song ends.

The music starts back up, but this time it’s a jaunty little tune.

“Oh, the chicken dance! I can chicken dance,” he says. He bends his arms, sticks his elbows out, and prepares to flop like a chicken. “Are you ready?” he asks, his eyes twinkling with merriment.

I have a funny feeling that I’m not nearly ready for him. Not at all. But I kick my shoes off and prepare to dance like a chicken.

We’re both laughing and sweating when the song ends. Mick bends over and grabs my shoes, hooking them with his index and middle finger. I don’t even try to take them back, because my feet are killing me.

“You need a break,” he says, leading me toward a table.

“Maybe just for a minute.” I lean on the tall table and rest my weight on it.

“I’ll get you something to drink,” he says, his fingertips lingering at the small of my back.

“Just water,” I say.

As soon as he walks away, the redhead comes to join me. She extends her hand, but not in the normal way that people shake. She holds it out like she’s waiting for me to kiss her knuckles. I hate it when women offer half a handshake. I take her hand, turn her wrist, and then shake hands with her the normal way, all while she scowls at me.

“I’m Claire,” she says. “You are?”

“Wren.” I don’t offer more than that.

She raises one plucked brow at me. “And you’re…”

“Hot. Thirsty. Winded.” I glare back at her, since I know how to do that.

“I’m glad he called you,” she says softly. “He really likes you.”

“What makes you think that?”

“He looks at you like you’re the only woman in the room. Every girl wants to be looked at like that.”

Mick comes back to the table and hands me my drink. “Should I get one for you?” he asks Claire.

“No, thanks,” Claire says sweetly. “Will I see you at the softball game tomorrow?”

“Definitely.”

She walks away with a jaunty little wave.

I lay my hand on Mick’s arm and blink my eyes at him. “There’s a softball game tomorrow?”

He nods. “There is.” He leans down and presses his lips to the tip of my nose. My belly flutters.

My boob vibrates. “Hang on,” I say. “My boob is ringing.” I fish my phone out of my bra while he watches with an amused look on his face.

“Everything okay?” he asks, eyeing my phone.

“Just Lark. She wanted to be sure her husband’s brother is being well taken care of.” I roll my eyes and stuff the phone back into my bra. He leans so he can look down my dress a little.

“How much stuff can you fit in there?”

I laugh. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

His eyes don’t leave my boobs when he says, “I’d like to know everything there is to know…about your boobs.” His eyes come up to meet mine. “And all the rest of you.”

My heart gallops in my chest. “Can I come to your game tomorrow?”

He grins. “I’ll pick you up at six.”

The song “Cha-cha Slide” starts to play.

“Oh, I can slide,” he sings out. He kicks my shoes beneath the table, and then grabs my hand and pulls me onto the floor.

For the next few hours, I completely forget that up until now, my life has been shit. Because right now, it’s kind of awesome.