Zara's POV
A few songs later the crowd around the table thinned out a little, and a guy stepped up with his hand stretched toward me.
“Come down before you fall,” he said, smiling up at me. He had light brown skin and dimples and an easy kind of cute that didn’t feel dangerous. Grey hoodie, tall, the kind of smile that probably got him what he wanted most of the time.
I took his hand and stepped off the table. My feet hit the floor a little harder than I meant, and he caught my elbow to steady me. The rum was still swimming in my head, but not enough to make me stupid. Not yet.
“Thanks,” I said, pulling my hand back.
“Any time,” he said. He didn’t let go right away. “I’m Lincoln.”
“Zara.”
“I know,” he said, and the smile got a little wider. “Everyone in this room knows. You were inc
