“Uh, yeah,” he says eagerly. “I could do that.”
“Oh great.” Banner pulls her phone from her pocket. “Could you air drop your number?”
Another flurry of blinks. “Please?”
They exchange contacts and the music starts up.
“They’re clearing the floor for dancing,” Kyle says. “Maybe we could—”
“I don’t think so,” I interrupt, to his dismay.
“But she and I were about to—”
“I knooow,” I say, trying for a rueful look and probably failing. “Maybe next time.
“But we—”
“Could you go now?” I’m over this and missing the beginning of the dance I’ve plotted all night for.
Banner’s throaty chuckle draws both of our attention.
“I’ll call you Monday, Kyle,” Banner says, slipping the phone back into her pocket. “It was great chatting with you.”
He takes her polite dismissal much better than mine, nodding and walking off.
“That was rude.” She sips her lemonade and blinks hard and fast like she did with Kyle. “And I was just getting started.”
“I think,” I say, plucking the champagne flute from her fingers and setting it on a nearby ledge, “we should retire those batting eyelashes for the night. They got what they came for.”
“Yes, they did,” she agrees. “Quinn’s been calling Kyle’s office for weeks asking for help with her app. When I saw his name on the guest list, I saw opportunity knocking. I answered.”
My equinox, indeed.
“Well, there’s music,” I point out. “And dancing.”
“Yes, everybody’s doing it apparently,” she intones, glancing around at the partygoers coupling off on the makeshift dancefloor.
“A shame if we don’t.”
“I do like to dance.” She angles a mischievous glance up at me. “Though I don’t typically fraternize with the enemy.”
I glide my hand down her back until it rests at the dip of her waist and steer her to the floor.
“Oh, I’m the enemy, am I?” I pull her into my arms and her hands rest on my shoulders.
“I’ve always thought so,” she says, glancing down at our feet and swaying to the music.
“No, you haven’t,” I remind her softly. “Not always.”
It’s the golden hour. The sun is in flux, not quite down and not high. It’s a breath before sunset, and the whole sky explodes with a final burst of color like fireworks over the ocean. The same blush washing the horizon rises on Banner’s cheeks.
“No, not always,” she agrees, eyes still trained on the ground, none of the coquettish blinking and drop-gathering she treated Kyle to for me.
Thank God.
“You know I’m not the enemy, right, Ban?” I press her closer until there’s no space between our bodies and my mouth is at her ear. “We’re on different teams, but not really enemies. Would that be an accurate assessment?”
A slight shudder ripples through her body at my breath in her hair, at her ear. She nods slowly.