“There are eyes everywhere,” I say, putting space between us. I can’t think with her pressed against me. I shake my head, trying to clear it. “And Lyle. On the small chance we haven’t completely fucked ourselves, if he knows we snuck off together…”

“What if I don’t care?”

“I care. I don’t want him to make you out to be—”

Her eyes snap open, blue and fiery.

“To be what, Cam? What am I?”

“Stop,” I say. “That’s not what I meant.” And it’s not. I definitely, definitely want this to happen, but stealing away from a bar full of people with cameras … Well. Okay, it’s probably not any worse than rubbing myself all over her on the dance floor. Shelby spins out of my arms and makes her way through the crowd. I see Lorelai near the stage, and she tries to catch her, but Shelby waves her off, with me close behind. I shake my head at her best friend, letting her know I got this. This time, I got this. We end up in a dark hallway, but it’s not nearly enough privacy, so I reach for her hand and tug her out into the night. I wait to make sure we aren’t followed before heading for the back of the building near the outside stairs that lead to my apartment. I pull her under them.

She starts in immediately, eyes flashing, her pale blond hair falling in her face. “You’re so determined to save me, Cameron. To save my reputation. We’re not children anymore. We don’t have to sneak around in closets and dark fields.”

“I know that, but Lyle is just waiting to—”

“Fuck Lyle!” she shouts, before lowering her voice. “Seriously. Fuck him. I don’t care about Lyle. Not even when I was supposed to did I care about him. I care about you. I love you. How dense can one man be?” She slaps her hands against my chest, accentuating her words. “I’m stupid for you and your stupid beard and your stupid tree-trunk thighs and your stupid flannel shirts and your stupid dancing and your stupid kind eyes—”

It feels like all of the blood has drained out of my brain. “Wait. You love me?”

Shelby freezes, her mouth open. She collects herself. “I—”

“You said it,” I say, breathless. My heart is thudding out of my chest, a runaway train straight off the tracks. “You can’t take it back. I heard it.”

She shakes her head. “I wasn’t—I just—” She clears her throat and tries again. “I was—”

“You love me.”

She swallows. “Yes.”

“You love me.”

She glares. “Maybe a little less now than when we started this conversation.”

“I love you, too, you know.”

She softens, ever so slightly. “I didn’t. I hoped, though.”