“Not a good idea, Boone.” “Why?” “Because we’ve never danced together.” “Exactly why we need to do it now.” “How do I know that you’re not a shitty dancer who’ll tromp on my toes or embarrass me with disco moves?” I braced my forearm on the bar and leaned in, losing my train of thought when I caught a whiff of her sweet perfume and beneath that sweetness, the earthier musk of her skin. Brushing my lips across her ear, I murmured, “Only one way to find out if I’ve got the moves like Jagger, McKay.” She laughed. “Okay.” I clasped her left hand in my right, towing her behind me until we reached the farthest edge of the dance floor. Sierra brought our clasped hands up and rested her left hand on my right shoulder, keeping our bodies a proper distance apart like we were in fifth grade gym class. “Nice try, but you belong here.” I circled her arms around my neck. Then I placed my hands in the small of her back with my forearms resting on her hips. “Much better.”