Quiet Secret

Touch

Obviously, I nod my head yes. I mean, why not?

John twirls me, and the group laughs, but I soon realize the weight of his hands on my waist, and rough feel of his fingers on mine.

It's been a while since I had any type of romantic relationship, and I rationalize that the way I feel about John dancing with me is just because I'm touch-deprived. It's fun, though, to feel light as a feather as he lifts me through the air.

Bracing my hands on his - incredibly broad - shoulders, I look down at his wide smile, letting out a laugh as he spins me around.

"Lav, you're a natural," he exclaims, the sudden nickname coming easily from his lips.

"Thank you," I say jokingly, but the odd intensity of his stare causes a breath to hitch in my throat.

Ghost, then, loudly announces shots, and the moment breaks.

The rest of the evening is spent laughing, small talk, and promises of going home-decor shopping with Price and Flora at their favorite antique shop.

Soon, the party starts to dissapate - König and Flora are tired, Ivy and Ghost have to get back in time to watch the latest episode of their favorite show, Farah wants to head to the gym early in the morning, and Price has a book to read.

After many goodbyes, and hang out with us again!s, it's just John and me. I start to help him clean up, and the silence feels comfortable. Like we've known each other for a long while, rather than just today.

John's playlist is still going from earlier, and in the middle of tugging closed a trash bag, he is suddenly next to me, pulling me away.

A slow song is playing, I realize, and this dancing is much different than earlier's fun.

"Dance with me," he says, and so I do, again.

His hands are loose on my waist, but he's very close - I opt for hands around his neck - and we sway in time to the music.

"I had fun tonight," I say, looking up at him. "Thank you for inviting me."'

"Of course," he says. "I had a right feeling when I came into your office. You'll be one of us in no time."

I laugh, but there's that look of his again.

"What?" I ask, leaning back an inch to see him more clearly.

"Feels like I've known you forever," he says, his words echoing my own thoughts from earlier.

"I agree," I nod.

Suddenly, he grabs onto my hand, twirling me out, and then back into him - I collide gently with his chest, his arms around me, and he dips me.

His face is two inches from mine, and I fight the urge to not look down at his mouth. I mean, come on. This is the perfect fairytale moment, minus the ballgown.

I swear to god he leans closer, but then I'm upright again, the song coming to a close.

"Let's get you back before it gets too late," he says, and I nod, swallowing down the weird feeling being around him tonight has given me.

Again, he opens and closes the car door for me, something I appreciate more than I probably should, and we head back to my house.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" John asks after we pull into my driveway, not making a move to get out.

"No," I say, my heart accelerating at the question.

"Ah," he says.

Nothing. I count to five in my head, and he still doesn't speak again.

"Why?" I ask.

"Well," he says. "I learned yesterday that my family will be coming to visit," he says. "And... they're always asking if I'm seeing anyone - it's all they wanna talk about these days. John, are you putting yourself out there? John, have you got a special girl? John, do you even want to be with anyone? And the answer's yes, obviously, but I just... haven't met a lass yet. Plus, the rest of the team's pretty much coupled up, and..." He trails off.

Knowing he's a bit older than me, I suddenly feel grateful that I'm not at that age with my own family, at least not yet.

"I feel like we're already great friends, getting along so well, and I wouldn't just spring this on you otherwise. They're just getting here next week, and so I figured I would put it out there in case we need to plan something out."

This sounds like the start of one of my favorite romance books, and so, without fully realizing it, I agree.

"Sure," I say. "I mean, it sounds like a solid enough plan."

"It'd be even better if you were getting something out of it, too," he says, eyes finally falling onto mine. "What's your price?"

I laugh. "I don't have a price, Johnny."

Another casual nickname, falling easily from my lips just as it did with Lav from his.

"I like that," he says, and I flush at the way he looks at me when he says those particular words.

Changing the subject, I say, "Well, I could use a big strong man to help me move in my furniture when the rest of my order arrives in a few days."

"That's it?" he asks.

"Yes," I say. "So, are you wanting to just pretend in front of your family, or...?" My open-ended question falls where I intended it to, both of us remembering his mentioning of the 141 earlier.

"What do you think?" he asks, offering my opinion.

"I think it could be fun," I say, meaning the words honestly. "It'll sell it, first off, and second off, you'll blend in better with the group and in, say, a month, we'll say we were 'better as friends' and then go back to how we were tonight."

Johnny's eyes sparkle with the idea, and he smiles. "You're a genius."

I shrug. "I try," I say.

He shakes his head at himself, opening the door and coming around to my side, once again extending a hand for me. I take it, and he, as the chivalrous man he is, walks me to my door.

"I really enjoyed tonight," he says as I unlock my door, and I let it swing open as I turn back to him.

"Me, too," I say.

A beat passes between us as we face each other.

"Well," I say, breaking the silence. "I'm gonna get to bed, I have some more unpacking to do. We can meet tomorrow evening to talk stuff out?"

Johnny smiles, his eyes catching on a piece of hair that's fallen from behind my ear, and he reaches, tucking it back into place.

I really, really like when he touches me.

But we are friends, I remind myself. Plus, we only just met.

"Goodnight, Johnny," I say, and in a bold movement that probably denies the words I just reminded myself of, I take a step forward, come up on my tippy-toes, and kiss him on the cheek. His stubble feels, in the best way, very masculine on my lips.

I meet his eyes one more time as I start to close my door.