He let go quickly.
“You should’ve said you were leaning that far,” he said, his voice a little rougher than before.
“I did not know I was going to fall,” I replied, still trying to recover enough dignity to stand properly.
“That makes two of you,” Giselle said.
I turned toward her, grateful for the interruption, only to find her staring at us with a look that made warmth crawl into my face for all the wrong reasons.
“Oh,” she said slowly.
“Oh, nothing,” I said at once.
“I did not say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was merely observing,” she replied, sounding far too innocent.
Daniel had already stepped back by then, clearing his throat as he reached for the fallen tape with more focus than the tape deserved.
Giselle watched him for a second, then looked at me again, her smile becoming impossible to misread.
“Well,” she said, “at least now we know Daniel’s reflexes work when properly motivated.”
“Giselle,” I warned.
“What?” she asked, widening her eyes. “He caught you like a man in a romance movie. I’m simply respecting the moment.”
“It was normal.”
“Mm.”
“It was.”
From the floor, Daniel muttered, “Can we please continue before the banner ends up living on the carpet?”
That only made Giselle grin wider.
I climbed back onto the chair, more careful this time, aware of the awkwardness that had settled over the room. My embarrassment came from nearly falling and from Giselle being Giselle, but Daniel had gone quiet in a way that was hard to ignore. His movements were smaller now, his answers shorter, and even without looking at him, I could feel the shift.
Giselle noticed, of course.
A few minutes later, while Daniel went to the kitchen to bring more tape, she leaned closer and lowered her voice.
“I think Daniel has a tiny problem.”
I kept my eyes on the banner. “No, he does not.”
“Oh, he absolutely does.”
“He caught me because I was falling.”
“Yes,” she said, tilting her head. “And for a second, he looked like he was falling too.”
I glanced at her despite myself.
Giselle smiled. “Just not off the chair.”