“Give it a few minutes,” Trish said. “He probably needs to go adjust some things in the pants department.”
“Trish!”
Before I could scold her more, Ben came and sat next to us, holding two flutes of sparkling cider. “Hey, Caitlin,” he said.
I returned the greeting with a smile. The table was only big enough for three couples, and I saw Jenny and Meghan headed our way with their dates. Jenny picked up the pace subtly, reaching us first. Meghan made an awkward detour and tried to pull it off like she’d intended to go to the neighboring table all along.
“You look gorgeous,” I whispered as Jenny sat down. The deep blue satin caught the light and shimmered, making her look like a mermaid. Her hair was curled elegantly and she’d done her makeup.
“Thank you,” she whispered back. “So do you.”
All around, I could see guys glancing over and doing double takes. They weren’t used to seeing Jenny look hot—heck, they weren’t used to seeing Jenny at all. She had a habit of blending into walls, posts, trees, whatever happened to be behind her. Luke, her date, still looked shocked that he’d invited the weird, pale girl from the junior class and shown up with what looked like her supermodel alter ego.
Adrian came back with drinks, handing me a glass. I immediately took a sip in order to keep my hands busy. So did Adrian. Eventually, we all started talking and the tension around the table eased a bit. There was a little three-tiered thing in the middle set with tea-light candles, chocolates, and little snacks and we munched on them while we waited. Eventually the Muzak crap that had been playing as we walked in was replaced by current pop songs, and Tim, Stephanie’s date, announced that the dance had officially begun.
I’d only gone to one dance before, and my date had been a very sweet, but very bad dancer. I had no idea if I was any good at it because I’d spent the entire evening wishing I hadn’t gone in the first place.
I felt a hand on mine, and looked up. Adrian was standing there in a form-fitting Armani suit, lit softly by hundreds of candles, wavy dark hair brushing the collar of his jacket, gray eyes deep and calm.
“Would you like to dance?”
He looked so beautiful, all I could do was nod.
He held my hand, lacing our fingers as we walked slowly to the center of the gym. Three or four other couples had braved the dance floor, and we melded in with them, Adrian’s gaze sweeping up and down my dress slowly.
I rested my hand on his shoulder. We danced apart for a moment before he pulled me closer. I was afraid to look at him. His fingers were on my waist, tracing the edge of the velvet slowly. I wasn’t entirely sure if Trish’s Cinderella-dress plan was working, or if he was mocking me. Look how well I can pretend to love you. I desperately hoped the moment was sincere. But in all honesty, I couldn’t tell.
As the song began to fade, Adrian wrapped a loose curl around his finger, then slowly drew it out, scraping his knuckles softly down my shoulder. I was so hyperaware of his touch that I had no idea if we were still dancing or not.
“Did you really make this?” Adrian asked, running the tips of his fingers across the beading on the neck of my dress. All I could do was nod. “It’s beautiful,” he murmured. “It’s incredibly beautiful.”
He pressed his palm to the dress-less small of my back and I shivered. As other couples folded in around us, his lips skimmed my shoulder and my knees buckled. He tightened his hold on my waist to catch me, which was not good because it meant we were pressed even more tightly together. I made the further mistake of looking up at him and our eyes caught and held and we just breathed, teetering on some invisible edge and I honestly didn’t know which side I wanted to fall on. This had to be real. This felt real.
“Adrian—”