I try to turn, but I only end up stepping on his foot in the process, nearly taking us both down. He yelps quietly, and I mutter an apology, gripping him by the wrist so we don’t fall over. “Just stay close.”

I don’t know how long we stand there. The vacuum drones on and on and on.

His shoulder bumps mine. Softly, he says, “You’re humming that stupid song again.”

My face bunches up with confusion and something I can’t name as I realize I’ve been humming Tom Petty under my breath again. Waylon feels warmer next to me, like a furnace. Or maybe it’s me. I don’t know.

“Is it hot in here?” I ask.

A beat. “Yeah.”

Then why is he shivering?

Sweat tingles along my palms. The back of my neck. There’s a tightness in my chest, not unlike how I felt last night when Grams was talking about May babies and love. I can’t see a thing, and yet I’ve never felt so aware of another person’s presence in all my life.

Waylon’s quick, shallow breaths dance across my face. I can feel his chest rising and falling, and mine seems to be trying to chase it—match its rhythm with his. I can hear my pulse. It seems to drown out everything but his breathing in my ear.

I nervously wet my lips and turn my head. His breath hitches with his swift intake of air.

Everything seems to slow down. Shrinking to this moment.

I can barely, just barely, make out the shape of him—a slight distortion breaking up the dark. He’s taller than me, but only a little, and I’m not really sure why I think about that right now. How the tip of my nose lines up with his mouth. How easy it would be to just lean up—

Waylon’s stomach decides then and there to gurgle. Loudly.

And I can’t help it, I burst out laughing.

“Shut up,” he growls through his teeth.

Tears sting my eyes as I bring a fist to my mouth, trying to muffle the choppy sounds breaching my lips.

He hisses my name and I grip his shoulder to try and not bend over in hysterics.

“Stop,” he whispers. “Someone will hear.”

“I-I’m t-trying.”

“Try harder,” he grits out.

For some reason, that just makes me laugh even harder.

“Will!”

And then it happens.

So fast and brief, that it’s not until it’s already over that I even realize what happened.

One second I’m choking down on my laughter, and the next there are hands grappling at my shoulders, a chin bumping my jaw, a muttered curse—

Something brushes the corner of my mouth, and I—

Waylon.

Way, Way, Way—

He pulls away.