Colton looked like he would argue, but Ryan cut him off.
“Look, I know you hate being handled. But I want to stay one step ahead of the press. You’re too nice, Colton. They’ll twist anything you give them.”
I threw up my hands. “Let me get this straight. I dressed up. I’m giving a speech. Now I have to slow dance under the spotlight?”
Ryan didn’t blink. “Yes.”
I groaned. “What’s next—fire twirling while singing the national anthem?”
Ryan smirked. “If it helps the shelter, I wouldn't rule it out."
Colton turned to me, extending his hand.
“Shall we?”
I hesitated just a second before placing mine in his.
The lights dimmed as we stepped onto the dance floor, and a soft melody wrapped around the room. Colton settled one hand lightly on my lower back, the other still holding mine. My free hand hovered awkwardly for a second before resting against his shoulder.
“I should’ve worn taller heels,” I muttered, tilting my chin to meet his eyes.
He smiled. “You could be on stilts, and I’d still be taller.”
“Not helping,” I grumbled—but I didn’t pull away.
For a few beats, we just moved. Slow, simple. Nothing flashy. His hand was warm against my back, and I could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing. My heart, by contrast, was doing some kind of triple axel.
“You’re doing great,” he said softly.
“Not passing out is my definition of great now?”
He chuckled. “It is tonight.”
There was a moment—just a breath—where our eyes met and held. I should’ve looked away. I didn’t.
“Thanks,” he said, his voice lower now, more serious. “For being here. For having my back.”
I swallowed. “Thanks for not laughing when I practiced speaking to the dogs this morning.”
“They seemed pleased.”
“They were a very supportive audience.”
He grinned, but it faded into something more thoughtful. “You’re good at this, Riley. All of this. Don’t let anyone make you feel like you’re not.”
For a second, the rest of the ballroom fell away. I shifted closer, letting my head rest lightly against his chest.
“This okay?” I asked, barely above a whisper.
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s good.”
The music played on, and I let myself sink into the moment. He smelled like clean soap and something slightly woodsy. Despite the heels and the nerves and the million things I should be thinking about, I didn’t want to be anywhere else.
As the final notes drifted into silence, we didn’t move. Not right away. We stayed close, caught between the end of something and whatever might come next.
Then someone clapped nearby, and reality broke the spell.
Colton stepped back slightly, but his hand didn’t drop immediately.
