"He's my sister's," he said. "But tonight he's mine. Which means if he eats a third candy cane, I will have to explain it to Claire with diagrams and possibly a sworn statement."
"He seems like a good reason to be here," Elena said.
"He is. You seem like a good accident."
She arched one already arched brow, winged liner catching a red bulb's glow.
"Careful. Accidents are how people end up on the floor."
"We already did that," Jake said. "I'm ahead of schedule."
They returned to the wood. The mirror ball threw light across Elena's white faux fur and Jake's midnight blue until they looked briefly expensive and ridiculous, which was, Elena thought, the correct aesthetic for a holiday. He offered his hand again, less cocky now, more careful, as if the first lap had taught him that hope required better manners than swagger.
"Another lap? Forward for you. Backward for the classic."