The rooftop speakers played Dolly Parton’s “Jolene,” and I felt the tension I’d been carrying in my shoulders the last weeks finally began to uncoil.

“Bryn definitely had the right idea about this,” I said as I rolled my neck.

“Yeah, she has some good ideas,” Pan agreed. He looked back over his shoulder, watching her play økkspill. “You know she came up with another really great idea.”

“And what’s that?” I asked.

He looked back at me with a crooked smile. “That I should ask you to dance.”

Confused, I glanced over at Bryn, then back at him. “When did she say that?”

“When she was ordering the shots. You were talking to Elof.”

I laughed. “She really said that?”

“She did. But I would’ve asked you to dance anyway.”

“Then why haven’t you?” I asked.

“Dance with me.”

I slid off the bar stool and took his hand, leading him out to the small dance floor. The song changed to Emmylou Harris, and Pan slid his arm around my waist.

As we swayed slowly together, Pan laughed to himself.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“I was just thinking how nice it is that no matter what happens, we always find time to dance together.” He smiled down at me, his smoldering dark eyes holding mine.

With my arms around his neck, I leaned up and kissed him softly on the mouth. His full lips pressed against mine, and an excited heat grew inside me. This was the first time we’d kissed—really kissed—since our Lost Month, and I felt the sudden, dizzying sensation of a hundred other kisses I couldn’t quite remember rushing over me. Stolen between iron bars, snuck around our captors—even in the darkest of places, we always found our way into each other’s arms.

We’d given up any pretense of dancing, and we were just standing in the middle of the floor. We stopped kissing, his hands in my hair, and his eyes on mine.

“I’m so glad I found you again,” he said, his voice low and husky.

“Me too,” I whispered.

Behind me, there was a clatter of chairs, and Pan looked over my shoulder. His eyes widened in horror, and I turned around to see Rikky, standing beside an overturned chair and shooting daggers at us with her eyes.

“You dirty liar!” Rikky snarled.

“Rikky, listen.” Pan immediately moved, stepping closer to her and putting himself between me and his livid ex-girlfriend.

“You didn’t have to lie!” Tears stood in her eyes, and there was a slight slur to her words. I wondered how long she’d been at the bar before she discovered us on the rooftop Bridge. “I would’ve helped you anyway. Is that how little you think of me, Pan?”

“I didn’t lie,” Pan said, speaking calmly with his hands held palms-out toward her.