Page 4 of Crossing the Line
I’m trying to smile, but I don’t succeed. “Excuse me,” I say, and as fast as my feet will carry me without running, I move away from the happy couple. Or maybe they aren’t so happy. I can’t figure it out.
The faster I walk away from them, though, the more relieved I feel. I glance over each shoulder and then sigh with relief.Good job, Pais. You have allowed yourself to become lost in the crowd.
I must force myself to forget that Hercules is here tonight.He has a date, Paisley.If I can remember that, repeat it until it sinks in, then he will have no power over me.
* * *
About two hours later,the festivities are in full swing. Cocktails are flowing from the free bar, and jovial conversations bounce around the room like a volleyball. One thing’s for sure—New Yorkers sure do know how to party. After Mason and Lake made speeches declaring their love for each other, the music began. The couple of honor started dancing, and more and more people joined them on the wooden dance floor that had been set up in front of the enormous picture windows.
Watching bodies dance with the lit city in the background has an artistic appeal. I’m certain Lake arranged the scene that way on purpose. It’s such an artistic thing to do.
I’ve plopped myself on a stool at one of the high, round tables lining the perimeter of the venue. I’m still trying to stay away from Hercules. I don’t want to even catch a glance of him and Lauren together. The sight of them standing close while she whispers sweet nothings in his ear doesn’t make me feel so swell.
Every now and then, a guy takes a seat next to me and asks if I want to dance. I graciously decline. It’s not that I don’t want to get in the mix and have a good time. I just don’t want to be seen. I’m hiding.
So far, Hercules and Lauren haven’t hit the dance floor. But I must admit it would be nice to see if Hercules has any good moves. I bet he’s a sexy dancer. It’s the way he walks and all his gestures—he’s masculine but graceful.Very sensuous.
In my mind’s eye, I’ve been analyzing his body language with Lauren.When she clung to his arm earlier, did he look uncomfortable?I’m not sure, though. He didn’t try to take his arm back from her. If he was into me at all, then he would’ve found a way to free himself from her. I think he was just being nice to me before Lauren showed up. Just like in high school.
“Hey.” Lake hops up onto the stool beside me.
I jump because I didn’t see her coming. “Hey.”
Lake curls an arm around my waist. “Get up, sexy lady in red. You’re going to dance.” Her tone is singsong, eyes gleam with excitement and she’s so buzzed. I’m pretty sure she’s had a cocktail or two or three.
“I don’t dance,” I shout over a peppy song.
“Everybody dances, Paisley!”
After more coaxing, I reluctantly slide off my stool and allow Lake to guide me to the dance floor. After all, it’s her party, and it would be rude to say no to a twirl with the future bride.
When we mark our spot among the other dancing bodies, Lake rolls her arms above her head as she curls her hips toward the floor. Her moves are smooth and graceful. With a raised eyebrow, she encourages me to follow her lead.
My face is warm as I look around nervously. People are watching me. A lot of them are men. I think it’s because of Treasure’s red dress. I should never have worn it. By Treasure’s standards, the garment is doing its job. She likes to be seen. I, on the other hand, do not. The attention makes me nervous.
“Come on, Pais. You can do it. Let loose!” Lake says before circling her arms above her head and twirling.
I release a deep sigh as I shuffle halfheartedly from side to side. It’s not that I can’t dance. I can dance. In junior high, modern dance was one of my extracurricular activities, and I was good at it. The only reason I stopped was because my parents thought that in high school, I should focus more on what was viable for my future—computer programming.
I pull from my memory bank and start swaying my hips and twirling my arms.
“That’s it!” Lake exclaims, clapping excitedly.
Still moving my hips, I blush, embarrassed, into the palm of my hand. I must admit, dancing like this feels so good, so freeing. That’s probably the main reason I’ve been so drawn to Lake as a friend. She knows how to coax me into doing things I would’ve never done on my own. Kind of like my cousin, Treasure, who has been my best friend since she first taught me how to annoy parents by endlessly shaking my rattle.
“What were you talking about?” Lake grabs both my hands as we twist our hips like a corkscrew toward the floor together. “You’re a fantastic dancer,” she exclaims.
“I never said I couldn’t dance. I said I don’t dance,” I shout above the music.
Her head falls back as she laughs. Then she draws me nearer and, with her mouth close to my ear, says, “And oh my God, Hercules has a thing for you.”
When she pulls back to see my face, I’m confused. “But he has a girlfriend,” I say loudly enough for her to hear over the music but not loud enough to be heard by anyone else.
“Girlfriend?” She screws her face. “It’s complicated.”
“Then she’s not his girlfriend?”
Lake’s eyebrows furrow and then even out. I can tell she’s holding back from telling me the whole story. Then she pulls me close again. “Hercules is hot as sin and rich as hell, and I’ve never seen him show that much interest in any woman since you came along. And that includes Lauren. I’m mean, look at him over there. He can’t take his eyes off of you.”
I don’t see Hercules at all. “Over where?”
“Directly over your right shoulder,” Lake says.
I whip my face around probably a little too fast. And in an instant, my searching eyes connect with his.
