Arden reached out. She brushed his shoulder, following the line of his arm down to slip her hand into his. A zing sizzled against her skin, making her suck in her breath.
Dade turned at the touch. Their fingers loosely joined. Then he squeezed her hand, pulling her closer. Sliding her other arm up around his shoulder, she fell into him as he tucked her against him, her body pressed warmly to his.
He didn’t look surprised to see her. If anything, he appeared relieved. He smiled, big and radiant.
Arden didn’t know what to say, deciding to enjoy the moment and letting the heat build between them.
Electricity sparked inside her as their gazes held. Time suspended, the moment perfect in beautiful connection. Their bodies began to sway together, becoming one with the music and each other. The bubble of space that surrounded them shrank. Dancers moved closer, swallowing them up so that they became a part of the living mass, hidden from outside eyes, safe in their own world.
All that existed was the music and him. For the first time that she could remember, Arden felt alive. That spark he’d lit inside her now rushed through her veins. Nothing else mattered beyond this. Reality would exist later once this magical moment broke.
He leaned in, so close that she could smell the mint on his breath and the deep spicy richness of his cologne. She wanted to press her face close to his tunic, perhaps lay her head on his shoulder. But she maintained sense enough to hold herself back. Barely. This feeling, as nice as it was, couldn’t permeate her life. Because then she’d miss it when he left. Nothing good ever stuck around.
Dade’s hand cupped the side of her face. His fingers trailed in flutter-soft strokes across her cheek, just below her mask. The touch left warm prickles of awareness. She shivered at the feel of skin against skin, wanting to press into it. Needing to prolong it somehow, to make it last, wanting to live in the moment before it slipped away.
Then he touched her hair. Dade fingered the tendrils a moment before his hand slipped to cup the back of her head. He moved her forward, as his mouth inched toward hers.
Arden turned her face up. Anticipation melted her, making the heat inside her spread like lava through her stomach and chest.
Just for a moment, his lips hung above hers, almost, but not quite, touching.
They connected. Dade’s lips brushed hers, soft at first with the barest hint of pressure. Then he leaned in farther, pulling her until she grabbed at his shoulders to seal their lips together.
She felt as if all her dreams coalesced into heart-melting want. She could go on like this forever, sharing the same breath, touching, and being one together. Their masks brushed lightly, the nanotech sparks showering them in a cascade of fireworks light.
Arden pulled back and drew in a long breath. They stared at each other, while their bodies still moved. The music continued to play, yet the moment they were caught in was long and quiet. She slid her tongue across her bottom lip, considering going back for another kiss.
A piercing siren shattered the haze of her mind.
Arden drew away, startled. Her brain tried to catch up with the situation exploding around her. It took her a second to put the context together, to realize the club was being raided.
Govies stormed in from the doors, the windows, and through the roof. They wore their govie-greens: gender-neutral, sleek synth-suits in a material that helped to deflect phase-fire. Over this, they sported high-tech tactical gear and head cranials, with blue-phase shields that covered their eyes and provided them with night vision.
A concussion grenade exploded. The reverberating sound shook the dance floor. Smoke billowed, making it impossible to see. The club lights were cut, leaving only the glow from the govie phase shields to slice through the fog like ghostly beacons.
Arden tried not to breathe in the noxious fumes. Her body felt as if it had ground itself together, bone against bone, while her eyes watered and her head swam. The ringing in her ears from the grenade messed with her balance. She swayed, stumbling forward.
Dade caught her.
Club goers scattered, making the chaos worse.
“We need to go,” Arden said.
He nodded. “I’m sorry. I meant to get you out of here before they showed up.”
That stopped her cold. She narrowed her eyes. The odds were always in favor that the govies might strike the club. But he’d known. Had Dade set her up? “How did you know there would be a raid tonight?”
“I didn’t, not really. But I knew they were upping their sweeps. I thought I had enough time to warn you.”
“That’s stupid,” she said, while feeling a warm flutter in her belly. “You’re not ever to risk your life. I already told you that once today.”
Arden didn’t know if she was more frustrated at him for being here or for caring. She couldn’t trust him, but did it matter? He’d come to find her. That made him her responsibility. Even if he might be playing some other dangerous game, she couldn’t leave him for the govies.
She grabbed Dade’s wrist and navigated them through the screaming chaos. They reached a back hallway where a govie stood at the mouth of the egress, keeping people from escaping in that direction. She shoved a group of club kids into him. While he was distracted, she moved around them and down the hall.
She pushed her way into the men’s restroom. Thankfully, it was empty. “We don’t have much time. Lock the door.”
Dade looked back the way they’d come before he stepped inside and did as she’d asked. His face was lined with worry, his shoulders tight. “What about those kids?”
“It’s them or us,” she said. “And I didn’t want to kill a govie tonight. I try to save that for the last option.” Arden aimed for a joke, but it fell flat because it was the truth. Neither of them laughed. She left it at that, hoping she’d made her point.
“We can’t leave them. They’re nobodies, just club kids.”
“Which means they’ll be released from custody soon enough,” Arden said. “Let it go. We can’t help them.”
Dade didn’t look happy, yet he nodded.
She walked to the other end of the restroom. There was only one way out since they obviously couldn’t exit onto the streets. The Lasair members guarded their bolt-hole entrances zealously. Rescuing Dade was going against every rule the gang had. He could easily disclose the bolt-hole’s existence, making that escape route inoperable.
She should not trust him. Didn’t trust him. And yet, she found herself leading Dade to the janitor’s closet.
He looked at her, his eyebrow raised. “First date and you’re already shoving me into dark closets?”