Chapter Fifteen

Honey

"What are you up to this weekend, Chica?" Zach's arm is slung around my shoulder as we walk down the hall, and yet no one is looking at us. We've been doing this whole fake dating thing for a couple of weeks now, and we've become so believable that no one questions it anymore.

I bite my tongue. I don't know if I want to tell him it's my birthday this weekend. He's already mentioned he wants to keep up this charade while we're at school, and I don't want him to feel pressured into having to hang out with me.

"This weekend?" I quip. "No plans."

I feel like such a fraud when the words fall out of my mouth. I can't tell him my parents will make me sit through another insufferable business dinner as my eighteenth birthday present. Zach smiles at me the way he did yesterday when we had lunch and he was eating a burrito. I swear he purposely licked the salsa off his lips provocatively to prove I want to jump his bones.

Wait a minute… Do I want to jump his bones, or am I just incredibly lonely?

"Nothing at all?" he singsongs, seemingly in a better mood than I've seen him in since we started this whole thing.

I raise a brow, holding the hand draped over my shoulder. "Nope. Why do you ask?"

He kisses my forehead in a light and affectionate way. We're fake dating. It doesn't matter that he stands up for me in front of my ex or makes me laugh without trying. He's not interested in me . He's only interested in making money and ticking off a few rich pricks that need to be put in their places.

He doesn't want me. Never has.

My heart sinks. I don't want to feel anything for Zach, but every time he looks at me with his charming face and dimpled chin, I get a burning sensation in my belly, and it's embarrassing.

Yet again, I'm stuck on a guy who sees me as nothing more than a pile of bills.

"I don't know. It just doesn't sound like you. You've always got something going on, even if it's just riding your horses." I gnaw at my bottom lip, stopping myself from saying anything about the dinner or getting excited over the fact that Zach remembered I ride. "You must be up to something?"

Why is he so intent on pushing this?

"Gotta finish a couple of assignments, but that's about it. What about you? What are you up to?"

He offers me a small smile, studying me silently before answering. "Nothing too crazy. Just going to some party."

"Party? You've never struck me as the party type."

"What you mean to say is that you've never seen me at a South Point party, and there's a very good reason for that. I'm never invited." I frown, feeling a little crappy that I brought it up, but Zach brushes his thumb across my hand. "Relax, Lollipop. I don't care. They aren't the type of parties I'd want to go to anyway. You probably have to wear suits with matching ties or some shit like that." I giggle, and he grins back. "I'm going to a family party this weekend."

"Oh, yeah?" I force out a fake smile, unsure how much I should ask. He's already mentioned that he wants to keep his family life private, but he brought it up, not me.

I slap his back lightly. "Well, uh, have a good time." I cringe because it sounds uninspired and baseless.

He doesn't notice my discontent and just kisses my forehead again. Gah, why does he always have to do that? Doesn't he realize every touch, no matter how menial it is, makes my heart flutter in ways it shouldn't?

"I'm sure I will, Buttercup. I hope you have a great time doing your homework." He quirks his eyebrows and offers me an amused smile but nothing more. "I've got to go to practice, but if you need me, send me a text." And with a wink, he jogs off, leaving me watching his butt in his tight pants.

What the heck is going on between us? One minute he's flirting, and I think I'm falling; the next, he's distant and cold.

Before I have much time to think about it, my phone rings, and I roll my eyes, knowing immediately that it's my mother wondering where I am.

"Hello, Mother," I answer, walking to the parking lot.

"Hunniford. Where are you?"

"Just on my way," I singsong, ignoring her sully tone.

"Well, get here as soon as possible. Your horse won't ride itself."

"Don't I know it." The words are mumbled, and my mother doesn't hear them because she's too busy yelling at me about something.

Whatever, I don't care anymore. I'll do just about anything to get my mind off Zach.

Smoothing down the navy cocktail dress my mother asked me to wear tonight, I walk to our house, feeling a little embarrassed that I had to get my hair done for this dinner. It's my birthday, but I don't feel the carefree, elated emotions you're supposed to feel when you turn eighteen. All I feel is like a puppet on a string, only pulled out by my parents when they need me.

I take one final look at my phone before bothering to leave the car.

Dozens of birthday texts come through from people I've barely spoken to, but pathetically, I only care about one person, and there's still nothing from him. What did I expect, though? I didn't tell Zach it was my birthday, and he's out partying tonight, not giving me a second thought.

Just as I put my phone down, a message comes through.

Mother: No flirting with the clients now that Jamie isn't coming.

I snort out a laugh. Unless my father's new client has brought some hot college intern with them tonight, she has nothing to worry about. Does she think I'm that desperate that I'd be interested in a couple of balding men with kids my age? Another new message comes through.

Mother: And I expect you on your best behavior.

That makes me drop my phone in my bag. I don't want to see any more messages berating me. When am I not on my best behavior?

Getting out of the car, I take careful steps on my new Aquazurra heels, ignoring the slight pain in my toes from breaking them in. They're cute heels, but my mother picked them out, so I instantly hate them and will donate them after this dinner.

I slow as I step closer to the front door because of the crazy amount of cars in our drive. Gone is the gardener's beat-up Toyota, replaced with brand new Teslas and Mercedes. How many people are they having over tonight? Suddenly feeling a little lighter, I walk faster to the front door. Maybe I've lucked out, and this dinner is less intimate than I thought, and I can sneak out after general introductions. Not that I have anything else to do, but hanging out in my room watching something on Netflix sounds better than enduring an evening of fake smiles and awkward conversation.

When I open the door, I'm surprised that our maid isn't there to greet me and the lights are off. "Mother?" I call out through the quiet hallway, the only noise being the click of my heels.

No answer, which makes me breathe a sigh of relief. If she heard me calling out her name so brazenly, I'm sure she'd chastise me for making it look like I have no manners.

I decide to walk farther down the hall, toward the formal lounge, hoping they might be in there.

As I grasp the door handle, I hear soft mumblings on the other side and fix a fake smile on my face.

"SURPRISE!"

People scream, jumping from behind our furnishings to greet me with a smile.

Taking a step back, I nearly fall from shock and disbelief. Students from school and friends from my extra-curricular activities fill the room.

"What the…" I say under my breath, clutching my chest. I swear my heart is about to beat out of my chest.

"Did you really think I'd let your eighteenth birthday go by without celebrating it?" Olivia laughs as she comes out of the fray. She pulls me into a hug as the music starts to play, and the party gets into full swing.

As I look around the room, my eyes immediately connect with Jamie's. He's staring, with his arm slung around McKenna—who is wearing a tight, garishly pink dress. How long has he been watching? And why are the majority of these guests people who taunted me online?

My heart sinks. Are they all here to see another downfall? Is Jamie prepared to embarrass me again because I've been ignoring him?

"Did you plan this?" I ask, pushing away from Olivia and focusing on her. She smiles proudly, and the apples of her cheeks pop out.

Nodding, she says, "Yup. I managed to get permission from your parents a few months ago. They weren't sold initially because they'd already planned some fancy dinner, but I made up some crap about how important it would be for your social standing after… everything." She waves off her comment, leaving the ending floating in the air. After Jamie publicly embarrassed me is what she wants to say but doesn't. "They were more than happy to oblige after thinking about it for a few days."

Wrapping my arms around her in another hug, I squeeze her tight. "Thank you." I didn't want a party, but knowing Olivia went out of her way to arrange this for me, makes me feel somewhat special, and that's rare.

"Geez, Livi, did you invite everyone from school?" I ask, looking around the room at all the familiar faces.

"Is that your way of asking if Zach is here?" She knocks my shoulder and gives me a coy smile.

My heart flutters at the mere mention of his name, because that wasn't even a possibility in my mind. He's at a family party tonight and has no idea it's my birthday. "He's not, is he?" There's a moment I think maybe saying he was going to a party was his way of saying he was coming to mine, but I swallow down that hope.

Olivia bites her bottom lip. "I did invite him, but he said he had to do something before, so he wasn't sure he'd be able to make it in time." I knew it. That family party was obviously never a hint for me. I'm not his family, and we agreed to keep our home lives separate. That's what he's doing. It's just now that I know I'm spending the rest of the night with my classmates; the only classmate I want to spend time with is him.

Stop it, Honey! Stop all these wistful and expectant thoughts.

Zach is not my boyfriend. He didn't sign up for these extra-curricular activities, and thinking he's anything other than my fake boyfriend will drive me crazy. Then a thought runs through my mind, and my stomach drops.

He knew it was my birthday when he talked to me on Friday and even knew about this birthday party, but he said nothing when I blatantly lied to his face. He didn't message me at all today.

"Don't think too much about Zach." Olivia grabs my hand, bringing me out of my thoughts. "You look hotter than sin tonight, and we're going to take enough pictures to flood social media. There will be so many hot pictures of you that no one will remember why you were trending last month."

Typical Olivia. Trying to make me feel better but somehow putting her foot in her mouth.

"Come on, let's get a drink." She drags me through to the parlor, smiling from over her shoulder. "Your parents insisted that the only alcohol should be champagne, but I snuck in a few more types." She winks, and I smile half-heartedly because tonight is only marginally better than an awkward business dinner since Zach isn't here.

"Told you." Jamie leans over my shoulder as I take a sip from the fruity punch Olivia brought. With a mixture of cranberry and vodka, I already know I've had too many, but I don't care. It's keeping me going. The pink liquid swishes at the bottom of my cup; the ice melted has diluted the sweet alcoholic taste. It's been a couple of hours since this whole thing started, and the novelty has well and truly worn off.

"What are you talking about?" I ask with a little sass that can only be attributed to the buzz from the vodka coursing through my veins.

He pushes his tongue out, wetting his lips, and takes me in. "I told you that he'd never fit into your life." Oh, he's talking about Zach, again . Was he always this boring when I dated him? "Zach isn't the guy for you." Don't I know it? He's just not that into me.

"And why do you think that?" I play along because I don't want him to know I've been doing everything in my power to not think about Zach tonight. "Is it because he's not here? Hard for someone to attend a party that they know nothing about."

Jamie's eyebrows cross. "You sure about that? The whole school knew about this party. In fact, I'm pretty sure I saw Olivia inviting him last week." Jamie raises his hands, looking around. "And yet, he's not here." I want to smack that smile off his face but take a sip of my drink instead. "Not that he'd fit in. Does the guy even own a tux? He's probably not here because he couldn't afford the rental and didn't want to embarrass himself by borrowing another one of Mike's."

My face recoils. Jamie is a selfish, conceited asshole, and I can't believe I was ever upset he cheated on me. He did me a favor.

My eyes flitter down to the pink drink swishing away in my hand, and I'm more than ready to throw the contents in his face to show him exactly how I feel, but just as I pull my elbow back, I stop.

Smiling, I blink a couple of times to make sure what I'm seeing is real and it's not a figment of my imagination.

Nope. He's still there.

Zach's standing confidently and smiling sincerely while talking to… my mother?

Jamie turns to follow my gaze, lets out some incoherent grunt, and I hope this wipes that stupid smile off his face. I shunt past him, letting my feet take me to Zach, and for the first time in a while, I'm not unhappy to have to speak to my mother.

"Hunniford," my mother says in a smooth tone. She slinks her arm around my shoulder, and I resist recoiling at the touch.

"Hello, Mother." Not sure what to say, I look at Zach, who adjusts the lapels on his suit while shifting on his feet.

"You didn't tell me what a pleasant young man Zach was." Her voice drips with fake pleasantry, but strangely, she's giving him this cooing smile that makes me second-guess her intentions.

"Mother…" I'm hesitant, not sure what else I'm supposed to say. I'm standing next to two people I never expected to see in the same room, let alone talking nicely to each other. "What are you doing here? I didn't think you'd be interested in hanging out with my classmates."

I tilt my head and raise my eyebrows at Zach. The small smile he gives me sends electricity through my veins, but I tip onto my toes to avoid showing it.

My mother waves her hand before sipping her wine. "I'm not. Your father and I are heading to a business dinner in ten minutes, but when I found out that your new boyfriend was planning on attending, I just had to meet him myself." She offers her hand to Zach. "It's been a pleasure. I hope you'll take us up on our dinner offer soon."

Zach shakes her hand, and weirdly, she looks happy. It's disconcerting, and I don't like it. My mother's eyes drag from my shoes to my face, and she smiles. "I'm glad you dressed for the occasion."

"Always. I thought I was going to your business dinner, after all."

She hums. "We'll be out until midnight. Olivia promised that she'd work with the maids to make sure the place is spotless for when we return."

I nod, biting my lip, already feeling the anxiety of ensuring everything is clean. My mother walks away without another word, and I'm left watching her slink into the crowd.

"Hi," Zach says, tipping his body forward so he's in my space, and when I turn, he looks through his lashes shyly. "I hope you don't mind me coming tonight?" His cheeks are slightly pink, and I hate that it feels like my heart is about to pump out of my chest.

So many questions run through my head, but I have no idea where to start. It's only when I'm accidentally knocked by a student that I take Zach's hand and lead him to the entrance hall. Shutting the door behind us, only the stifled mutterings from the other side can be heard. "Everything okay?" I hear the uneasiness in his voice, but can I blame him? I haven't said a word to him yet.

Turning, I look down at his impeccably cut tux and how it emphasizes his perfectly V-shaped torso. He looks delicious. "Where'd you get the tux?" I blurt out. I know for a fact that he wouldn't have this damn black velvet Gucci number lying around his house.

He drops his eyes to the lapels and laughs. "It's, uh, Mike's. He had it for some premiere and let me borrow it. Does it look okay?" I bite down on my smile, liking he's a little anxious. It's so different from how he usually is, and I can't imagine he would be like this with anyone else but me.

"You look perfect." That soothes him. "But what are you doing here? I thought you had a family party tonight?"

He swipes his bottom lip with his tongue and closes the space between us. "I'd say a fake girlfriend constitutes as family, wouldn't you?"

"How long did you know about this party?"

"Since Olivia decided to throw it last month."

"So you knew it was my birthday on Friday?"

He nods, stuffing his hand into his pocket. "Yup. I was just wondering if you were going to let me know. You didn't."

It's now my turn to blush. "I'm sorry. It's not because I didn't want to tell you. It was because I didn't want you to feel obligated to do something for me just because we're… you know…" I point between the two of us, my finger wagging aimlessly until I finally drop it to my side.

"I know," he says with a smile. Zach steps a little closer, close enough to touch, but keeps his hands at his side. "I'm glad Mike knew your dad's favorite whiskey."

"You met with my father?"

"Yeah." He scratches the back of his head. "Uhh, after I told Olivia I could make it, I got a call from your mother asking me to meet her and your dad before the party. I spent the better part of an hour standing in your parents' wine room trialing different cheeses." His eyes widen, and he rocks on his heels. "It was an experience, to say the least." Shaking his head like he's trying to wipe the memory, he says, "Rich people are so weird. I thought your father would threaten to shoot me like other fathers I've met. Yours just stared me down and threatened to financially ruin me if I hurt you. I've never been more scared in my life."

Crinkling my brow, I study Zach's eager face. "But why did you go to all the trouble? You're the one that said we should keep our personal lives separate."

"Yeah, I did. But then I saw how much it meant to you, and I felt like an ass for being so pushy on that point. I wanted to talk to you about it since you seemed a little distant after that but didn't know how to bring it up." My heart flutters. I had no idea he thought about me outside our little arrangement. "When your mom called me and invited me to come early to meet your parents, I thought it was a no-brainer. I needed to help you as much as you're helping me." He shakes his head, chuckling. "I did not expect to have to give your dad my ten-year life plan, though."

"And what did you say to that?" I link my hands around his neck, leaning in toward him. Even though we're alone, he doesn't seem surprised by the move, and being this close to him feels nice. Natural, even.

Zach's hands fall to my hips. "Well, I didn't think he was the kind of guy to believe that I'd be in the NFL in ten years, so I told him my backup plan. Go to St. Michael's and get an accounting degree. Not glamorous, but I'm all about paying the bills." He wiggles his eyebrows, and I laugh.

"You'd be the sexiest accountant I've ever seen," I tease but immediately stiffen. Was that too far?

Zach squeezes my hips and drops his forehead onto my shoulder. "He seemed impressed. Gave me his business card and offered me a job straight out of college."

"You're kidding?"

"Nah, I've always had a way with my girlfriend's parents."

"And how many dads have you schmoozed over your lifetime?"

"Too many to count, but only one that matters." What does he mean by that? He lifts his head when I fall silent. "You're the only one that matters." Duh, because if those other girls mattered, he'd still be dating them and wouldn't be fake dating me. Still, there's something niggling in the back of my mind, reminding me of the girl at his house. The sister that seemed all too concerned about his whereabouts.

"There's something else." Zach reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small light-brown pouch. "I, uh, got you this." He hands me the gift, and I stare at it in awe.

"Zach," I breathe. "You didn't have to get me anything."

"What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn't celebrate my fake girlfriend's birthday?" He laughs it off, but I can hear the nervousness in his voice. "It's not much, and it probably cost more to get your hair done tonight, but when I saw it, I thought of you immediately."

I arch my back, giving myself enough space to open the pouch but stay in Zach's embrace. Pulling out a chain necklace, the gold pendant catches my eye, and I inhale sharply. It's gorgeous and nothing like the chunky designer jewelry my mother favors. Hanging on the bottom of the necklace is a small geometric honeycomb pendant with what looks like resin in the form of honey dripping off them. Just above the resin, there's a tiny gold bee. "Zach, it's beautiful."

His cheeks bloom red when I pull him in for a hug and kiss him on the cheek. "I hope you like it."

"I love it." In reality, he could have bought me a pair of socks, and I'd love them because I know the sentiment behind it means so much more than the designer handbags Jamie got me.

"It's nothing, really. We had a few hours before an away game, and Mike and I were walking down the street. I saw this in the store window and immediately thought of you."

Chewing on my bottom lip, I smile. He thinks about me when I'm not around. It's not just me.

"Will you help me put it on?" I offer the necklace back, and he hesitates for a second.

"Are you sure you want to wear it?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

His eyes flick across my body. "It might not match your dress or your other jewelry." I know the underlying implication of his statement. He doesn't think his necklace was expensive enough for my taste.

"It will go perfectly." Dropping the necklace into his palm, I turn around and push my hair out of the way. Zach drapes the necklace around my neck, and his fingers tickle my skin.

After a few seconds, he chuckles. "I'm sorry it's taking so long. My fat fingers make the latch hard." I just hum, waiting for him to finish. "There you go."

As I turn around, I touch the delicate necklace and look at Zach. "How do I look?"

He studies the jewelry, not looking me in the eyes when he says, "Beautiful. But you don't need a necklace for that. You're always the prettiest person in the room."

When his gaze finally sweeps to mine, I lose my breath. He is beautiful, and my chest expands at his thoughtfulness. There's an electric charge in the air, and my breathing becomes heavy as I stare at the only boy who has ever made me feel like I'm all he sees.

My hands clench as I hold myself back, but when he smiles again, I can't stop myself.

Now or never.

"What the—" Zach says, surprised when I push him back against the navy and white wood-paneled wall, then plant my lips across his. Fireworks explode in my chest, but when he doesn't immediately reciprocate, I still, open my eyes, and regret slithers down to my toes.

What the hell have I done? There's no one here, and I've forced myself on him without so much as a warning.

Then something incredible happens. Zach's shoulders relax, and his soft lips meld against mine; the subtle flavor of my father's gin replaces any concern I harbored. I groan into his touch, and he takes that as an invitation to thread his hands in my hair, massaging the back of my neck with his fingers.

He's not stopping me, and although we've done this countless times for show, this kiss feels better than any other.

He's into it.

And when he slides his tongue into my mouth, I clutch at the lapels of his tux, pouring every ounce of emotion into our kiss because I don't have the guts to say how I feel out loud.

My brain is fried, my body woozy from every teasing touch his tongue makes against mine.

I open my mouth because I want more. I can freely admit that now that I'm pretty sure we're on the same page.

There's no way he'd buy me such a thoughtful gift or waste hours with my parents if he had no feelings for me. He wouldn't be clutching at my hair or angling my mouth in the right direction either.

My body throbs when one of his hands lands on my hip, then trails down. Tingles run straight to my core as his fingers slowly skip across my skin. Nipping at his bottom lip, I kiss him harder, firmer than before, and when his hand moves farther down to the hem of my skirt, I feel something strange.

Something I shouldn't be feeling in the hallway of my house while there are people on the other side of the door.

But I can't stop it.

All I can do is moan and buck my hips, hoping that the movement alone will be enough to release the tension building between my thighs.

I'm wet.

The kind of wet you get when you're hungry for the guy you're kissing, and you want to feel him in every part of you. I didn't think I could want him more when I kissed him in the car, but that was only a flutter of emotion compared to this.

He feels it too. I know it. Because his fingers are curling and uncurling the hem of my skirt, teasing me while he contemplates his next move. He wants to go under, and I want him to do it too. But will he?

I smile into the kiss, enjoying the thrill of not knowing his next move. Jamie was so mechanical with his touch that I'd get bored. Zach is unknown and wild, and I like it.

Then he does it. He swallows my gasp as his hand tucks under my skirt and trails up my thigh.

This is really happening. He's touching me the way I've been daydreaming about, the way I've wanted him to since we first kissed.

My legs kick forward in anticipation of his touch going higher, and I can't stop thinking about how it will feel when his fingers play against my burning center.

"Oh, umm." Olivia's voice breaks through the haughty haze, and I push Zach away, my body immediately missing his touch. His face is covered in my lipstick, and his hair a sexy mess, but I focus on Olivia, who is staring at us sheepishly. "Sorry for interrupting." Too embarrassed to look at Olivia, I focus on the creases of my skirt. "But the caterers wanted to do the birthday cake."

Flashing wide eyes, I bite my bottom lip. I can't believe I was making out with Zach so brazenly in the hallway. Hot, aching passion still thrums through my veins, and my lips throb from the touch.

My center aches, and I wonder as I look at Zach, who seems just as flustered, what would have happened if Olivia hadn't walked in. We were touching in ways I've only imagined. His hand was up my skirt, and I bucked my hips, wanting more. I wanted it to end with me screaming his name.

Olivia's smile is tight and she's staring at me like she's trying to convey a message of What the fuck?! without actually saying it. I don't let any emotion show on my face since I don't know what to think, and I pat down my dress. Little crinkles dance across my skirt's hem, reminding me of our intentions.

I laugh nervously and turn to Zach, who's still trying his best to rub my lipstick off his face, but only making it worse.

"I'll be right out." My voice is rough and ragged as I scoot back to Zach and help him with the smudged makeup. He takes my assistance willingly, letting my thumb rub across his stone-cut jaw and feel the slightly rough edges of his cheeks from his not-so-close shave.

Without another word, Olivia shuffles back to the party, leaving the large oak doors open for the rest of the guests to see.

Ignoring the glances I'm certain we're getting, I concentrate on cleaning Zach's face. His smile grows wide, and he grasps my elbows, getting me to look at him. "Are you okay?"

What a question to ask. Am I okay? I was caught making out with my fake boyfriend with no audience, and I liked it. Maybe it's my hormones or the fact that the last guy who touched me was Jamie with his less than coordinated fingers, but I wasn't going to stop Zach.

I nod, staring into his glassy, half-drunk eyes as he leans against the wall, pulling me with him. His shirt is as crumpled as my dress, and he looks as satisfied as I feel. "I'm good, but you'll need to freshen up before we go back to the party."

After I've cleaned his face, I pull on his shirt, trying to calm the creases. Laughing, he wraps his hands around my wrist, tickling his fingers up my palm before interlinking our hands.

His head dips, our noses are aligned, and we are so close to kissing again, I gulp. "Happy Birthday, Princess Peach," he whispers, and I close my eyes, waiting for his lips to touch mine.

But they don't.

We hover in this little game for longer than I'd like to admit. The tension sits between us like a thick fog. I can feel it tingling against my lips, and it's as real as Zach's minty breath fanning across my face.

The longer we stand here, the more I realize he won't do it, and I'm not about to push myself on him again.

Taking a stilted step back, I offer Zach a coy smile. "Thanks." I tilt my head toward the door. "We should probably head back out there."

"Whatever you want, Shortstack." He takes my hand and leads me to the party. Music blares throughout the room, but all I can hear is the beating of my fevered heart. When Zach glances over his shoulder and winks at me, I all but melt. He squeezes my hand, and my body explodes. That action alone tells me everything. He enjoyed that kiss as much as I did.

I can feel Jamie watching me; his eyes track my every step as Zach leads me to the kitchen. Licking my lips, I stare right back, daring him to make a move against me. Jamie lifts the glass in his hands, tipping it in my direction with a smirk wide across his face.

"Don't let him think he's gotten to you." Zach's whispered words float through the air, and he squeezes my hand a little tighter.

"I won't. I've got plenty of things to enjoy without worrying about him."

Zach leans forward, offering his hand on a bow. "Good. Then once you've blown these candles out, let's forget about everyone else and dance the night away."

Too giddy to hide my happiness, I take his hand and follow his lead.