When we’d come back to where we started, he lowered me down slowly, inch by inch, his hands sliding up my waist until they stopped at my rib cage. “Like that?”

I was still on my toes, taller than him, and I lowered myself down until I was standing on the ground, and we were now the same height. We were very close together—sharing a dance space, just a breath apart. “That was good.”

“I’m glad.”

“Yeah.” I knew we were saying things, but I wasn’t really aware of what they were and I knew they didn’t matter. What mattered was that his arms were tightening around me, and that excited, nervous butterflies had started zooming around in my stomach. His hazel eyes were locked on mine, and his hands were still spanning my rib cage, and I was sure he could feel my heart pounding hard underneath.

He leaned closer, and I leaned forward too. My eyes fluttered closed.…

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

I froze, then opened my eyes and looked around, worried the building had caught fire—it seemed loud enough.

“It’s the alarm,” Cary said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and silencing it. “For the play.”

“Right.” I blinked at him. We were still standing so close—I could have reached out my hand and traced his jawline, tangled my fingers in his hair, without even extending my arm. But the moment was slipping away—it was like trying to hold on to water. “Right,” I said again, taking a step back. Things were coming into focus again, the fuzzy edges sharpening. “The play. Of course.”

“Yeah,” Cary said, although he didn’t move. Feeling like I had to break the spell, I walked over to the door and concentrated on pulling my boots back on. Cary unloaded the rest of the towels, placed them in an empty cubby, then walked over to join me.

“I should get going,” I said, pulling on my coat, trying to get myself to focus. I’d been so concerned about getting to Mr. Campbell’s play on time all night; I shouldn’t be disappointed that the alarm we’d set to get me there on time had gone off.

“Or you could stay.” I looked over at Cary. He’d pulled his brown leather jacket on, and he rocked back on his heels and stuck his hands in his pockets.

“What?”

“I have to keep doing deliveries, but I’ll be done in an hour tops, and my next job doesn’t start until eleven thirty. We could… hang out? Go see a movie. Or cross the bridge to Brooklyn and get the best cheesecake in the whole world. Or the Whitney is open late. Or we could find some music… or just walk around.…” He gave me a hopeful, nervous smile.