Robin Constantine - The Promise of Amazing

“Um, what?” I asked, breaking our hold.

“Yep, went to his office during the week,” he answered, smiling. “I gave him some money for the damages.”

“You paid for the window? He didn’t tell me that,” I said.

“Well, it was from me, Luke, and Andy,” Grayson said, taking both my hands in his and drawing me close to him again. “Wren, sorry doesn’t even begin to make up for the other night. I don’t know why I let you be part of that crazy plan.”

“Grayson, that crazy plan was partly my idea. I wanted to be involved. The consequences weren’t . . . well, they don’t suck as bad as I thought. Especially now.”

“You must have gotten into some serious trouble with your parents,” he said, brushing his lips across mine.

“I think the thing that bothered my father most was when I told him we were at the love shack to be alone,” I said.

He tossed back his head. “You told him that? Snap. If I’d known before, I don’t think I would have gone to see him. I’m surprised I got an invite.”

“Did the crazy plan work at least? Did you talk to Luke?”

“He’s over the Amsterdam thing, if that’s what you mean.”

“So . . . that means . . .”

“It’s over.”

“And that means . . .”

The ballroom doors flung open.

“Hey, you two, it’s a party—get in here,” Eben said, grabbing my hand. Maddie was right behind him, swaying to the beat of the music that pounded over the sound system. She seized Grayson by the arm and they led us into the ballroom.

Everyone, young and old, staff and their guests, were crammed onto the dance floor, doing the “Cha Cha Slide.” Eben and Maddie hopped right back in without missing a step, waving us to join them. Jazz had her high heels off and was next to Josh, demonstrating how to take it back now, y’all . Josh bumped into a few people when they turned to the left, then gave up the proper steps altogether and took Jazz by the hand and spun her around.

Grayson and I stood on the edge of the dance floor.

“Wanna dance?” he asked.

“You can’t be serious; no . . . I don’t do the group thing,” I said, shrinking back from the crowd.

“C’mon,” Grayson said, “this is my jam.”

“Your jam?”

“Yeah, isn’t it about time we just had . . . fun . . . you and me?” he said, bending his knees and bouncing along with the beat. He swayed his hips in a way that made me laugh. I inched a little closer.

“You and me, I love that.”

He grinned and stepped into the throng of partiers.

“Then what are you waiting for?” he asked, extending his hand.

There were so many ways to screw this up. I could trip . . . knock into someone and cause a domino effect of fallen dancers . . . make a complete ass of myself. As I stood there, surrounded by the people I loved most, I knew no one would laugh at me even if I took a nose-dive onto the parquet floor.

And in the center of them all stood Grayson.

Waiting.

For me.

A promise . . .

I grabbed his hand.

It was time to dance.