The answer to that question, although he doesn't ask it, is no.

She'd needed to get York dead-drunk to dance with her. That, and toy with him enough to think she'd sleep with him. (Cruel, she knows, but she loves dancing). Even then, he only swayed. As most jocky, cishet men tend to do.

His admission comes as a pleasant surprise. Carolina's eyes say as much, igniting like green fire.

Gerry offers her his hand.

She grabs his wrists and starts toward the empty patch of floor by the stage.