I’m not in love with Gray. I used to think I was. But it means something different now than when I used to doodle his name in the margins of my notebooks. It’s a heavier word with weighted meaning. It doesn’t mean those juvenile feelings have faded away, though.

“I’m going to the restroom,” I tell Sloane.

As I hobble off the dance floor in my heels, she nods, already heading for the group of guys who have been watching us for the past ten minutes. I wish I had a quarter of her self-confidence.

The hallway leading to the restrooms is empty and smells faintly of harsh antiseptic. Better than other scents, I guess. Although it does remind me of work.

I lean back against the cool stone wall opposite the restroom door, seriously contemplating kicking off my heels. A questionable stain on the floor makes me second-guess that option. I sigh and tilt my head up to study the white plaster ceiling as I wait for the red above the handle to turn to green. The thick wall I’m leaning against muffles the commotion on the other side. Away from the activity and noise, I feel warm. Relaxed. A little sleepy.

Footsteps sound to my left. I’m annoyed by the irritating tap that signals an interruption from the moment I was having, making prolonged eye contact with the ceiling. The restroom door before me stays shut, meaning I’ll probably have to make small talk. At the very least, it’ll be weird if I just keep staring straight up. I roll my head to the side for a glimpse of who’s approaching.

My heart takes off at a gallop.

“Had your fill of dancing?”

Awareness skates down my spine and spreads through my senses as Gray stops beside me, adopting a similar pose against the wall.

I shrug like I’m too nonchalant to care he saw where I went. “Just needed a break.”

“Breaks are good.”

The air around me feels weighted and heavy, filled with possibilities. I can’t recall the last time Gray and I were alone together. Paired with Sloane’s suggestion and the fact that he looks more comfortable to lean against than this wall, I’m the closest I’ve ever been to crossing a line I never thought I would—unless he crossed it first.

“Probably been a while since you’ve been to a bar, huh?”

He tilts his head to smirk at me. Lazy heat traverses my veins.

“Sure. At least twenty-two hours.”

Riiight. “I figured you just got home.”

“Been back since Wednesday.” His green eyes flick down to my heels and back up so fast that I almost missed the glance. It was far from a heated perusal, but he definitely looked. “Last time you went out?”

I can’t even remember, but I’m not admitting that to Gray. “I go out.”