She playfully rolls her eyes but stands and grabs my hand. Once we’re on the dance floor, “Thinking Out Loud” by Ed Sheeran comes on. It’s such a cliché wedding dance song, but I walk out to the middle of the floor, and she stops at the edge. I curl my finger, demanding she come to me, and after a moment, she hesitantly walks toward me. Placing one hand on the small of her back, I grab her hand with my other one and interlock our fingers together before pulling her close. Her breath hitches, and when I look into her eyes, it’s only then I realize our faces are only inches apart.
“I knew you couldn’t deny me,” I tell her. She pretends as if she’s going to walk away, and I pull her hand, making her spin toward me right before I dip her.
“Who the hell are you?” she whispers when I bring her
