He escorted me to the dance floor, and we rocked together to and fro, chest to chest. Our stomachs pressed together ever so lightly. A young blond with Mediterranean-green eyes stood in the corner with a ukulele and sang a cover of Ed Sheeran’s “Photograph,” which literally blew me away.
“It’s all about swaying,” Cane whispered into my right ear. “A little to the left. A little to the right. It comes together quite quickly if two people have chemistry.”
Did we have chemistry? I thought so. We gracefully swayed to the right, to the left, sealed together with our hands. Our mouths met in one kiss, two kisses, three kisses, and we started making out on the dance floor.
Once the kissing ended, he said, “I thought you didn’t know how to dance?”
“You bring the theatrics out in me.”
He sang
