THERE'S A THRUMMING in her chest, as she leans closer and closer into Andrew. It's the supposed "last dance" but that just means it's the last slow song that the DJ will play. And they're making the most of it.
"How did you like tonight?" his voice sounds in her ear. His breath tickles her neck and Camila shivers.
They're cocooned in their little space, and Camila's face is pressed against his chest. The scent of him has changed over the night, his body chemistry reacting with his cologne. He smells like the lingering remnants of spring, light yet heady in her nose.
"I liked it very much," she whispers. They rock and his hands glide down to the small of her back.
As they sway, the world spins beneath her feet, and the music is drowned out. It's getting hazy for Camila and she wonders whether the mocktails were spiked.
"Good." Andrew drops his head until it rests against her shoulder. She feels him inhale and sigh. Her hands tighten across his back and they're more embracing than dancing.
"I've never slow-danced like this before." Camila laughs softly into his suit jacket.
"Do you want it another way?"
She feels his cheeks lift against her shoulder. Camila shakes her head, hoping he can feel it. When they're this close together, there's not a missed touch between them. The drumming of his heart echoes through her and the concoction of their breathing is driving her insane.
The song ends—far too soon—and yet they still stand, clutched together, as if the ocean storm would tear them apart.
"Just a few more seconds," Andrew says.
Camila laughs. "We can dance more after this, whenever you want, Drew."
"Yeah, but I like right now. Just right now."
Eventually, they do let go and the first thing Camila's eyes flit to is Laurent. He's in the direct line of her vision and he's laughing with Jeremy, who just finished playing a set with his band. Elle and Roma are nowhere to be seen.
"I'm going to go get my clutch and we can go," Camila tells Andrew.
At the coatcheck, Camila waits at the counter as they gather her belongings. A soft touch grazes her elbow.
"Are you going home with him?"
It's Laurent, who has his blazer hanging on his forearm, Jeremy a few steps away from him.
"Why do you care?" Jeremy asks.
"I am," Camila admits.
A second's hesitation happens, Laurent's eyes land on her lips just as those words leave her mouth, and her eyes peer into his, those stormy depths that never hold any answers. They search her face until they can't any longer, and his eyes close shut—just a fraction longer than a blink.
"Go get it, Cam," Jeremy says as he passes her. "We boys are going to head home, it's been rough. Even a stud like King can't get a date tonight."
"Bye." Camila gives them a small wave and smile. Laurent gives her one passing look before following Jeremy. She collects her things and goes to find Andrew.