Wait 1980s - Don T Make Me

Elias looked at her—shivering, soaked, and definitely late—and then looked back at the door where the muffled bass was still thumping.

She was leaning against a dented Ford Escort, her lace glove gripping a sodden paper bag. Her hair was flat from the rain, and one of her heels had clearly snapped off, leaving her leaning at a precarious tilt. Don T Make Me Wait 1980s

She took his hand, hopping on her one good heel. "Then don't make me wait any longer. Let's dance." Elias looked at her—shivering