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“Don’t start that nonsense again. I need to bathe your feet; they’re a mess.” He stood and filled a basin with water.

“Is Tristan home?” I asked.

“Who’s Tristan?”

“He lives with us… sometimes. He’ll dance with me. He’ll dance with me in my dreams.”

“Emily, what are you talking about?” He knelt at my feet again, and I had to sit on my hands to resist the urge to run my fingers through his hair.

“I like it spiky.”

Dylan stopped washing my feet and leaned back, regarding me warily. When he saw I was sitting on my hands, he picked up my foot and began to bathe it in the soapy water. It was sore.

“Why do my feet hurt?”

“Because you’ve been dancing for hours,” he said.

Lulu grimaced. “Even in trainers?”

“New trainers. But with no socks,” he grunted.

“No socks? Emily! They’ll stink. This is my fault.”

“It’s not your fault, Lu. It’s the fucking arsehole who gave her whatever she’s taken. If I ever get ahold of them… Please go to bed.”

“Lulu, stay!” I begged with a grin.

“Okay, Emily,” she said.

Dylan washed my other foot, his shoulders hunched and tense, and his eyes screwed up with anxiety and concentration, little lines spiraling into his temples. I wanted to make all of that go away. I wanted him to feel like I did. Relaxed, in tune, and at peace with the world.

No, in tune and at peace with the cosmos.

No, the whole infinite universe.

This is what happy felt like.

Happy. Yes. I was happy.

Immy had called Dylan mad hot. Icy blue eyes, long lashes, cheekbones, all focused on my feet. Yeah, he was kinda dreamy, and he cared about me, didn’t he? He picked up the bowl of water and wandered over to the sink, where he emptied it. He filled a glass with water and returned to me.

“How much have you had to drink?”

I shrugged. “Enough.”

“Sip it, slowly,” he ordered.

I drank. My jaw felt tight from chewing, but my teeth began to chatter and the noise was comical.

“Okay, Dyl, I’ll go to bed. Sure there’s nothing I can do?” Lulu asked.

He shook his head and reached for my wrist to check my pulse.

“Bye, Lulu. I told him about the crazy ladies.”

“What?” Lulu froze.

“I don’t know what she’s on about,” Dylan grumbled. “Her heart rate is through the roof.”