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“Dance with me, Caleb?”
To say he had a heart attack right then and there would be an understatement. His head snapped to where she stood in the middle of the living room wearing an oversized tee and basketball shorts, as beautiful as he’d ever seen her. She nods at the speaker sitting on his coffee table. “It’s been a while since I’ve danced, so I might be a little rusty, but…”
Her sapphire eyes are pleading, and Caleb suspects that she knows exactly how convincing that perfect face of hers can be. Nevertheless, he can feel himself being pulled in and bent to her will. The effect she has on him is infuriating, but somehow he wouldn’t have it any other way.
He smiles to himself as he pulls up a playlist on his phone and connects it to the speaker. It’s a barely operational piece of junk, but it does the job. Soon enough, he and Jester are swaying in time with the music right there in his apartment, one hand placed gently on the small of her back and the other guiding her in the right direction as they turn ever so slowly.
She takes him by surprise by letting go of his hand to wrap her arms around his shoulders and leaning her head against his chest. There’s no doubt in Caleb’s mind that Jester can hear every beat of his pounding heart and feel the red-hot flush of his skin, but she doesn’t say anything. Neither does he, and after a moment’s hesitation, he lowers his now free hand to rest on Jester’s back alongside the other. The rain pounds, the music plays, and the minutes slip by, but all Caleb can think of is Jester’s body pressed against his and how undeserving he is of the bliss he’s experiencing.
Finally, Jester lifts her head, her dyed-blue curls smushed on one side, and looks at Caleb in a way he hasn’t been looked at in years, but somehow recognizes immediately despite every nerve in his body telling him that it’s not possible.
“Can I kiss you?”
Caleb’s breath catches, and he’s pretty sure his heart comes to a full stop for a few seconds. He manages to compose himself just enough to say, “You don’t want to do that.”
She frowns. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”
“Trust me, Jester: you’ll regret it.”
“Why don’t you let me find out for myself?”
They briefly gaze at one another before Jester leans in ever so slightly—and there was nothing in this world or any other, not even his own self-hatred, that could’ve stopped Caleb from kissing her.
Jester is soft and sweet, and her face fits so perfectly against his that Caleb could swear that they were made for each other. He knows in his heart, of course, that they aren’t; try as he might, there is nothing he could ever do to be deserving of her love. But he could pretend.
For just this night Caleb could pretend that Jester loved him just a fraction of the way he loved her, and could die happy.