Tumble

One moment she's moving to the beat, the next there's a stumble, a sharp intake of breath, and then she's falling—landing hard in Chad's lap, her thighs straddling his, her hands bracing against his chest. The purple dress rides up dangerously high, exposing the curve of her thighs in the strobe light.

For a heartbeat, neither of them moves. She's facing him, close enough to see the surprise in his eyes, to feel his breath against her lips. Her hands are still pressed against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under her palms.

She should get up. She should laugh it off, stand, smooth her dress, find Joe.

She doesn't move.

"Nice save," she says, voice low, a smile playing at the corner of her lips. "Very smooth."

She's keenly aware of the position—of how she looks, of how this must appear to anyone watching, of the fact that Joe is somewhere in this crowd. She holds Chad's gaze, making no move to disentangle herself.