I loved holding Alex's hand. It was such a simple thing, really. But I had never had anyone whose hand I wanted to hold as we just walked down the street together. I flexed my hand in his, feeling every inch of his skin, and couldn't keep the smile off of my face.

"What are you thinking about over there?" Alex asked softly.

I looked up at him. The joy on his face hadn't faded, even as we left the dancing. "You," I told him. "And wondering how in the hell you got into swing dancing."

He laughed. "I was waiting for that question."

"So..." I prodded him when he didn't continue.

"When Violet was like, twelve, I think, she signed up for a class," Alex continued. "I, of course, at sixteen was far too cool to ever even think about doing something like that."

I snorted. Alex shot me a daggered look but then joined in on the laughter.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said. "But she begged me to drop her off for her first class, she was so nervous. She was really shy as a kid." He adopted a slightly wistful smile on his face, but his eyes still shone with the memory.

"So, it's something you ended up doing together?" I guessed.

He let out a bark of laughter. "Nope," he said. "She went to one class and then told me she hated it and never wanted to go again."

"Fair enough." I had a strong feeling that I would have really liked Violet.

"But I made her go to one more, just to make sure it wasn't just first-class jitters or anything. But the only way I could get her to do it was if I stayed there the whole time.

"And yeah, I could see right off that she was not having a good time at all. She was social a bit with a few of the others, but when it came to the dancing," Alex shook his head, "not her thing. But after watching it for a bit," he shrugged, "I don't know, it looked like fun to me."

"So you signed up for a class?"

He scoffed. "No. Remember, I was the cool sixteen-year-old. And anything I did in Manhattan would run too big of a risk of running into someone I knew.

"But, I found a place in Queens, kind of like where we just were, that had a beginner's night every week. And I just started going."

"By yourself?"

Alex nodded. "But it was nice, that way. No one knew who I was, so no one had any expectations about me. And you just danced with whoever. It kind of drew an odd crowd, and especially those of us who were there alone, so honestly, I ended up dancing with a lot of women in their sixties."

I tried to picture that. "I bet they loved that," I teased him.

He gaped at me in mock indignation. "I was a minor," he said. "But yeah. I got pretty good at it, and no one in my life really knew."

I squeezed his hand a little tighter. "You never told anyone about it?"

"It was just kind of my thing. It felt like bringing anyone else in would just ruin it."

I felt the gravity of his words and the fact that he decided to invite me in. "Well, then, thank you," I said softly. "For telling me all of this, and for bringing me here."

Alex stopped walking and turned to face me. "You're the first person I ever wanted to do this with," he told me. "I've thought about it ever since you asked me to dance when we were at that club. It became an outlet for me when I was a teenager, but I'd never had anyone who I actually wanted to dance with. Until you."

I couldn't help it. I reached up and pressed my lips to Alex's, my hand running through his hair and pulling him toward me. His hands went to my waist, pulling me against him, but neither of us went farther than that. It was sweet and beautiful, and perfect for the moment.

When we finally broke apart, Alex picked up my hand and we started walking along the sidewalk again. "So, does this mean I get to ask you something, now?" he asked teasingly.

"Anything you want." And I actually meant it.

He stopped again and then ran his thumb gently across my lower lip. I sucked in a breath and I felt a shudder run through my body, blood rushing to my face.

"I've rarely seen you not wear it," he said quietly. The side of his mouth quirked up in a smirk. "And most of the times you haven't had it on is because I've kissed it off of you."

The blush continued on my end.

"What makes it special to you?"

I started moving again. "It was the very first dance in high school," I began. I hadn't thought about this memory in a long time. "Emilia and I were going together because neither of us had dates. She was fine with that, of course, but I was a little less so. I had asked someone to go with me," I explained, "but, well, he kind of laughed in response."

I snuck a glance up at Alex just in time to see him wince. "Ouch," he said. "What a jackass."

"Yeah, well, what fourteen-year-old boy isn't?" I pointed out.

"Fair point."

"So I was licking my wounds from that," I continued. "And I was also being a moody teenager because my mom wasn't a big fan of me wearing makeup at that point, and of course, I wanted to for the dance. But she eventually compromised and agreed to buy me one item that I could wear."

"The lipstick?"

I nodded. "But, of course, me being the moody teenager, that almost made me more upset because I was convinced there was nothing I could really do with just one thing. But my mom made me go shopping anyway and then marched me over to the lipsticks. I stood there glowering, but she looked them over, and a moment later plucked one out and held it out to me.

"I couldn't admit it to her then, but I loved it the moment I saw it. And then she told me, 'Ana, it doesn't matter what else you have on your face, if you have a good red lipstick, no one will notice what you do or don't have.'" I gave a wry smile. "And she was right.

"I continued wearing it on special occasions and such through high school. But when I got to college it just kind of became a regular thing for me."

"Why only when you started college?"

I shrugged. "I mean, high school is kinda casual. And Evan didn't like it, he'd complain all the time how it got on him." I laughed. "I guess that's something you've had to deal with, I should probably figure out a way to make it stay put."

I let out a small yelp as Alex stopped suddenly and pulled me toward him so his face was inches from mine. "Don't you dare," he said, his voice low and approaching a growl.

I swallowed hard as heat shot through my body and settled in between my legs. "What do you mean?" I breathed.

He ran his thumb across my lip again, this time taking his time, and then pressed his finger to his own lips. "I want it on me," he said, his voice practically a whisper. "I want signs of you on me. Your ex is a fucking idiot if he couldn't see how lucky he was to have that."

All I could do was nod. Fuck, this was hot. "I'm glad you like it," I finally said.

I felt the deep chuckle vibrate within him. "Ana, I told you earlier tonight that my favorite color is red. Why do you think that is?"

Another statement that left me practically speechless. "Alex," I said.

He just let out a grunt in return.

"I think we should head back to your place, now."

His forehead dipped against mine and he exhaled. "Thank God for that."