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10
Paul
Before tonight, I’d never understood what the phrasesteaming madmeant. I’d heard it, sure. It was a common phrase. But really, what did it mean? Like, what exactly was steaming? All I could picture was a cartoon character with white plumes of steam shooting out of his ears, and honestly, how realistic was that?
But then Shelby stepped onto the promenade on the arm of that gigolo, and I finally understood the phrase. My insides boiled. Hot, oozing lava replaced the blood in my veins. Being steaming mad wasn’t a raging fire, it was a slow, searing burn. It was a volcano that hadn’t erupted yet, but silently bubbled and writhed under the surface.
Dramatic? Maybe. But even though I’d logically known that Shelby had been on a date here or there during the years I was gone, this was the first time I’d ever seen her on the arm of another man. So yeah, I steamed. But I wasn’t mad at her. Or the gigolo. I was mad at myself.
“Such a shame,” Hattie, our town florist and biggest busybody, said in reference to my failed proposal. “We were all rooting for you, Paul. I just can’t figure out what Roxy was thinking. How could she let a guy like you slip away?”
I gave Hattie a laugh mixed with a sigh. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing, Ms. Hattie.”
She patted my arm with a giggle. “Don’t worry, Paul. The right one for you is out there.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
Then Hattie turned to see what I was looking at. She made a lowmm-hmmsound with a swoop of her head. “Or maybe more specifically, the right one for you isoverthere.”
Before I could reply, she took a sip of her cocktail and walked away. I was used to that kind of comment about Shelby, though. It hadn’t happened much while I’d been with Roxy because I assume people thought they must have been wrong about us. But before that? The whispers about more than friendship between Shelby and me were nonstop, no matter how often we tried to silence them. Either way, I needed to watch out. Had I been that obvious with my expression just now? I thought I’d kept my face pretty casual, despite the whole inner-volcano thing.
Speaking of which, I should go say hi. Maybe I’d discover that her date was actually a really chill guy, and I would feel lessrageyabout her being on his arm. Or maybe he’d be a total jerk, and I’d get to make use of the rage. Either way was fine with me. I couldn’t just stand over here and glower at them all night.
“Hey, man,” Will said, coming up behind me and leaning close to whisper. “Did you see the guy?”
My eyes flicked back over to Shelby and her date, seeing that Layla and Lyndi had joined them. I turned to Will. “Yeah, I was just about to go say hi.”
“How big of you.”
“That’s me.”
Will looked around. “You know, this is pretty cool.”
“What? The wedding?”
“Nah, the fact that it’s just a reception. It’s like the fun of a wedding but without the boring parts.”
I chuckled, taking a swig of my beer. “Aria went all out, too. Should be a good night.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Hey, where’s your date?” I asked, looking around for the blonde he’d been with on Taco Tuesday.
“Bathroom. I’m not sure it’s going to work out between us, though.”
“Does it ever?”
He glared at me. “Shut up.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Why don’t you think it’ll work out?”
He shifted his weight and started to reply, then something caught his attention behind me. I moved to follow his gaze but didn’t see anything that looked out of place. It was just Aria chatting with the mother of the bride. I couldn’t be sure, but something seemed wrong. Maybe it was a wedding-related snafu. Surely it was something Aria could easily fix, though. She was great at her job and always handled issues on the big day without the guests noticing anything was amiss. Turning back to Will, I shrugged off the distraction.
He tilted his head to the side. “She’s just not the one, you know?”
“The one?” I asked, wrinkling my nose. “Since when are you looking for the one?”
In all the time I’d known Will, he’d been a playboy. I’d never once heard him talk about doing all of that dating with the intention of finding the perfect woman. In fact, it was the opposite. He’d once told me he didn’t believe in monogamy, that maybe we weren’t meant to be with one person for the rest of our lives.
