And with that, everyone was looking back to us, eyes soft and f**king invested in every single look or touch that passed between me and Hanna. I glared at each of them quickly and then stood. My chair squeaked across the floor, making my awkwardness even more evident. I was okay with being the center of attention within this group, whether I was teasing one of them or the other way around. But this felt different. I could laugh off the jokes about my scheduled hookups or colorful past with women, but right now I felt f**king vulnerable in this new place with Hanna, and wasn’t used to being on this side of the knowing looks.

I wiped my sweaty palms on the thighs of my jeans. “Let’s . . . I don’t know.” I looked around the bar helplessly. We should have just stayed on my couch, maybe f**ked again out there in my living room. We should have stayed put until things were slightly less up in the air between us.

Hanna looked up at me, amused expression in place. “Let’s . . . ?”

“Let’s dance.”

I jerked her out of her chair and out to the empty dance floor, realizing when we got there that it would be even worse than what I was escaping. I’d taken us from the pack-safety of the table and onto what was essentially a stage. She stepped close to me, pulling my arms around her waist and running her hands up my chest and into my hair.

“Breathe, Will.”

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. I’d never felt more awkward in my life. Come to think of it, I’d never really felt awkward at all before.

“You’re a mess,” she said, laughing into my ear when I pulled her close. “I’ve never seen you so discombobulated. I have to admit, it’s really kind of cute.”

“It’s been a really f**king weird day.”

Maddie was playing some mellow indie shit, and this particular song was only instrumental. It was sweet, almost a little melancholy, but just the right speed for the kind of dancing I wanted to do with Hanna: slow, pressing. The kind of dancing where I could pretend to dance but really just stand and hug her for a few minutes away from the table.

On a slow spin, I turned and could see that my friends weren’t even looking at us anymore; they had returned to their conversation. Chloe was speaking animatedly about something, arms flapping above her head and I was almost positive she was reenacting some wedding-related fiasco. Now that the weird Will Inspection moment had cleared, I was torn between staying put, here with Hanna, and heading back to the table so I could be kept up to date on the increasing number of shenanigans Bennett and Chloe were dealing with. I could only imagine they were pretty epic.

“I like being with you,” Hanna said, breaking back into my thoughts. Maybe it was the lights in the bar, or maybe it was her mood, but her eyes had more blue in them today than they normally did. It made me think of spring being released full bore into New York City. I wanted winter gone. I think I needed everything around me to transition so it didn’t feel like I was the only one going through something.

She paused, and her eyes focused on my lips. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

Laughing, I whispered, “You said that already. You apologized with words. And then with your mouth on my dick.”

She laughed, tucking her head into my neck, and I could pretend we were alone, just dancing in my living room, or bedroom. Only, if we were there, we wouldn’t be dancing. I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my body from reacting to this fresh reminder that she was pressed against me, had given me the blow job of my life earlier, and that it might be possible to convince her to come back to my place again later. Even if she just wanted to curl up and sleep, I’d be completely down for that. After all the drama of the day, I didn’t really want her to go home after this.

“I guess I don’t really know what to do,” she admitted. “I know we talked earlier but things still feel kind of weird.”

I sighed. “Why is it complicated, though?” The lights from the dance floor ran shadows across her face, and she looked so f**king beautiful, I felt like I was losing my mind. The question filled my throat like smoke until I felt too full. “Isn’t this good?” I smiled so she might think I knew it was; maybe she would believe for a second that I didn’t actually need the reassurance.

“It’s actually amazing how good it is,” she whispered. “I feel like I didn’t know you at all before, even though I thought I did. You’re this brilliant scientist, with these really amazing, meaningful tattoos. You run triathlons and have this close, sweet relationship with your sisters and your mom.” Her nails scratched lightly down my neck. “I know you’ve always been sexual, really sexual. From the first time I met you when you were nineteen, to now, twelve years later. I really like spending time with you for that reason, too, because you’re teaching me things I didn’t know about my body, and what I like. I think what we have right now is actually really perfect.”