I don't know who reaches first. Maybe it's me. Maybe it's him. Maybe it's just both of us reaching across the same unbearable silence.

But it starts with the brush of our fingers when we both grab our drinks at the same time, and that stupid electric buzz shoots up my arm like it's trying to light a fuse under my skin.

I pull my hand back like the glass bit me, like touching him again might scorch through every boundary I've been pretending to keep in place.

But it's too late. I already felt it. He already felt it.

His breath catches. Sharp and audible. His fingers curl slightly...