“Fine.” I’m sure I hear suppressed laughter in her voice. I narrow my eyes at her, and she immediately becomes absorbed by the action on the dancefloor. “I love this song,” she says brightly.

“So do I,” Misha says grimly and grabs my arm. “Come on.”

He drags me down the stairs, and, as I stumble after him, I say, “Didn’t I tell you that your club persona was a bit too caveman? This is exactly what I was talking about.”

He grunts. “I don’t think you have any room to talk after making eyes at Doug like that. He’s so cheesy he was giving a packet of Wotsits a run for their money.”

“He was very charming. Didn’t you hear what he said about librarians?” I shout over the music. I pause to consider his words. “I was not making eyes at him,” I say indignantly.

“You were practically fluttering your eyelashes at him.”

A man suddenly approaches me with grabby hands.

“No, fuck off,” Misha says sharply. “He wants to dance, not be groped by a complete twat.”

“Misha,” I say, shocked. “That’s so rude. I’m sorry,” I say to the man. He merely grins and disappears back into the crowd.

Misha pulls me onto the crowded dance floor, already moving with the sultry beat of the music.

“I love this song,” he shouts with a grin.

I laugh, all concerns gone. “Me too.”

He drags me closer, and we start to dance. Our bodies move smoothly in a syncopated rhythm that’s been hewn on dance floors all over London. We’ve been dancing together since we were sixteen and snuck into our first club. All my happy club memories include Misha.

We fall into our own rhythm, and song after song plays, our only reality the pulse of the beat, the cheers of the crowd around us, and the smell of sweat, aftershave, and dry ice. Bethany and Rupert join us for a few songs, appearing with water and then disappearing back to the side of the dancefloor, where I catch a glimpse of them laughing and talking. I smile and dance closer to Misha, pointing them out.

He gives them a quick glance and smiles before dragging me closer. “Hope their togetherness is sticking,” he shouts.

I throw my arms around his neck as he starts a bump and grind to Prince screaming about a girl called Nikki masturbating in a hotel lobby. I smile at the sight of Doug dancing nearby with a handsome redhead. He looks up and gives me a cheeky wink before turning back to the other man.

I nestle closer to Misha, following the rhythm of his hips seamlessly. “Rupert and Bethany belong together,” I say into his ear.