Page 17 of Stuck With the Best Man

“Am I wrong?”

“Yes.”

“How so?”

“I don’t see you for what you are, Ben,” I admit. “In fact, you’re incredibly difficult for me to figure out. You make absolutely no sense, and I don’t like it when things are senseless. That’s why I hate you.”

He’s quiet for a long moment. I take a moment to curse the fact that, despite his apparent lack of formal dance training, he has a decent sense of rhythm. We move well together.

Ben lets out a breath. The warmth of it tickles my collarbone.

“Fine,” he murmurs. “Fair enough. I’m a senseless fool and that’s why you hate me. How can I fix that?”

By walking out of this ballroom and straight off the cliff, I’m tempted to say.

Instead, I step fluidly out of his arms and say, “You can’t.”

Chapter Six: Ben

Slowdancingwithaballerina feels strange, but not in a bad way. It’s just that she makes me feel so… ordinary. She should be twirling on her toes, and I should be standing back in quiet awe. That’s how it has been between us for months, even though she doesn’t know I’ve been in the audience during her performances.

I don’t want her to dislike me. Not just because it’s something I’m unaccustomed to, but also because it feels like her hatred for me comes from somewhere deeper than the fact that I’m apparentlysenseless.

When Ruby steps out of my arms, my hands remain suspended in the air for a moment too long, as if my body can’t comprehend not touching her.

You can’t,she said. As in,you can’t fix the fact that I hate you.

My arms drop to my sides. When she takes a step away from me, I follow her.

“Why not?” I ask.

Ruby sighs. Around us, the music changes to something more upbeat and a few people in the crowd cheer loudly. It all sounds oddly muffled, as if coming from far away.

“Never mind,” she says, taking another step back. “Forget it. Forget I said anything.”

She turns to walk off the dance floor, but it’s easy enough to keep pace even with her long, graceful legs thanks to my own substantial height. I manage to gently encircle her wrist in my fingers and halt her escape at the edge of the ballroom. The way she whirls back around and glares at me makes me feel like I’m at risk of dissolving into ash on the spot.

Just beyond her, french doors open up into the elegant, sprawling gardens of the estate. She’s framed by shadows and roses and starlight, and I’m starting to wonder if meeting this woman might actually inspire me to start a career as a poet.

Can she still be my muse if she despises me?

“Please, tell me what I’ve done,” I practically beg. “It’s going to drive me crazy, Ruby.”

When I say her name, it seems to thaw her—albeit only slightly.

She turns away again, but her body language tells me that it’s okay for me to follow this time. Still, she all but stomps out into the night-shrouded gardens. At least as much as a ballerina can manage to stomp.

“It’s stupid,” she admits, speaking over her shoulder to me as she makes her way toward a large stone fountain that depicts a trio of mermaids spouting water from their hands.

She dips the tips of her fingers into the large basin and looks up at the crescent moon.

“I want to apologize again,” I blurt. “For making it seem like I’m too good for this town. It really is nice here. I don’t know why I was so obnoxious about it. I’m not usually a snob.”

Ruby’s expression is unreadable. I expected visible disbelief, or that she might argue that snobbery is my middle name. Something snarky but amusing like that.

“Don’t worry about it,” she grumbles after a moment.

I lean against the edge of the fountain. “So… if that’s not why you hate me, what is it?”

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