Chapter Eight
A thrill runs through me as I take Damien’s hand. We’ve never held hands before. Why would we? Friends don’t do that. He leads me to the dance floor, and I slide my arms around his neck. My hands are shaking. I hope he doesn’t notice. His arms slip around my waist, and we begin moving to the slow beat of the music. He’s so close and he smells so good and his eyes are boring into mine and I’m so giddy I might fall over. I have to remind myself to breathe. I have to remind my heart not to leap right out of my chest.
“You’re very good at this,” Damien says with a conspiratorial smile. “You’re almost fooling me.”
My pounding heart slows to a painful thud. I look down, breathing in deeply, reminding myself that none of this is real. One dance. I’ll let myself pretend for one da
