Oh, he was a fantastic dancing partner, and she could easily imagine he'd be a wonderful partner in other areas, as well. She laughed as they danced when he spun her around or twirled her about, enjoying being in the moment with him and surprisingly not thinking too far ahead of herself, just focusing on him and the music and this wonderful light and giddy feeling.
And the moment turned into something warmer, headier as his forehead pressed against hers. Good god, if he didn't kiss her, she couldn't be held accountable for what she would do, she thought as he just stared, seemingly memorizing every bit of her face. And then his hand was cupping her chin, his thumb brushing over her lip, and her breath caught in her throat. Just as her lips closed to brush a kiss against the pad of his thumb, he was backing off.
It was like a bucket of ice water being dumped on her head. "What?" Had she done something wrong? "Oliver?" Her brows furrowed, lips turning down in a slight frown that was a mix of concern and disappointment. She didn't push into his space again, though, and so she just stood there, her fuzzy mind not able, or at least not willing, to process why things were going off course now.