I'm dancing with Luke.

Luke Danes. My best friend, Luke. Eight years of platonic friendship down the drain as he tightens his arm around my waist and clutches my hand more securely.

He steps forward. I step back. He smiles softly. I shyly look into his eyes. His deep, fascinating blue eyes that captivate me for some moments before I realize this isn't us.

We shouldn't be dancing and holding hands and smiling bashfully and gazing into each other's eyes and letting the space between us lessen.

But then again, I shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as I am.