Page 71 of Beauty and the Beach
“Yeah. We’re over there somewhere, I think,” Trev says. He points to one corner of the ballroom, and I nod.
“I’ll meet you there.”
I hurry to the table of appetizers—hors d’oeuvres, if we want to be fancy—and fill one of those nice plastic plates that look like scalloped glass. I grab mini cheese balls, a mini puff pastry with spinach, and I even brave some sort of mushroom cap. Then I head back to the table where Trev and Phoenix have seated themselves; Trev is speaking animatedly to an older couple at the table, while Phoenix nods politely.
My plan of action is to pretend I’m invisible and somehow will it into being, so I can sit and eat my food in peace. I hold my plate in one hand and try to discreetly pull up the neckline of my dress with the other as I make my way to our table. My feet are definitely suffering in these shoes, but I remain as steady as possible.
I more or less collapse into the chair next to Phoenix, letting out an embarrassing littleoomphas I land. Phoenix looks over and raises one dark brow at me; I’m sure to him Iseem like a cavewoman wearing heels for the first time, but whatever. These death traps are four inches high. Mr.I-Sleep-In-My-Suitcan suck it.
“Stop staring,” I snap at him when I notice in my periphery that his eyes are still on me. “I’m sure you have better things to look at.”
“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” he says.
By the time I turn my head to glare at him, he’s already looking away.
I make my way through my plate of food—the mushroom caps aren’t my favorite, so I leave them—and then stare wistfully when everything is gone. When the people Trev is talking to meander away, I turn to ask him if I can get seconds, but he speaks before I have the chance.
“All right,” he says, standing up. “I need to go mingle. You two—go dance or something.”
When Phoenix and I just stare at him, he waves his hand.
“Dance!” he says again. “Go dance.”
And I don’t know why neither of us protest; it’s clear we don’t want to dance, much less with each other. But that’s part of Trev’s magic; he’s hard to say no to, because he’s so enthusiastic and excited about everything.
“Go,” he says when Phoenix and I both stand as slowly as humanly possible. “Come on; go dance. We need people to dance or it will just be an awkward empty dance floor.”
He shoos us away from the table, and we grudgingly go, weaving around tables until we reach the dance floor.
“We don’t have to dance,” I tell Phoenix as he positions himself in front of me. “Trev isn’t actually going to force us.”
“It’s fine,” he says.
“It doesn’t seem fine,” I say, my voice skeptical. Because his expression is blank, his body stiff as he rests one hand on my waist and holds the other out for me; I take it, putting myother hand on his shoulder. “You seem like you would rather be tortured than dance with me right now.”
“I don’t like to dance,” he says. “But I can stomach one song.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m flattered,” I say. “Really. You know, maybeJewelis here tonight?—”
“Don’t start, Holl,” he says, and he rolls his eyes too. “It was a mistake. I’m sorry. But there’s nothing else I can do.”
I don’t respond, because he’s right.
“Sorry,” I say—though I have to force the word out.
“It’s fine.” He doesn’t look at me as we sway back and forth to the music; in fact, his eyes are everywhere but on me. “You’ll find someone, you know? Don’t worry about it.”
“Hang on.” I stop before remembering we’re on a dance floor, and we have to keep moving or we’ll look weird. So I resume dancing, letting Phoenix guide me as I speak. “You seem to be under the impression that I’m—I’mpiningfor you or something. Is that what you think is happening?”
“What? No,” he says, his gaze finally resting on me. “I didn’t say that.”
“Because I’m not,” I say with a little frown. “I was vaguely interested in you, Phoenix. I wasn’t in love. You’re not the only fish in the sea.” I’m not even lying. I had—maybe still have—a crush on Phoenix, but that’s it. I wasn’t naming our future children. I wasn’t planning our wedding.
Phoenix shifts uncomfortably, his hand flexing on my waist as the slow drone of music continues to play around us. “I’m not sure how I feel about you making out with someone you’re onlyvaguely interestedin, but okay?—”
“I can kiss who I want.”
“I know you can,” he says with a sigh. “And I guess I don’t care. Just—be careful.”
