"Yeah sure, what's up?" Paul asked, relaxed expression settling right back over his face.
"He wants to know what the deal with your lavender marriage to Beatrice is," Peter said, and Paul rolled his eyes before giving him a look.
"That's not even what a lavender marriage is. She'd have to be gay too for it to be one," he said, and Peter immediately raised an eyebrow.
"Interesting how you know exactly what the definition is," he said.
"You know what a lavender marriage is too, you're the one who brought it up! What does that say about you and Lydia, hm?"
"It says that we're cultured and we know things," Peter said smugly, making Ace laugh. Paul just rolled his eyes again before turning back to me, giving me a look, thumbs in his belt loops as he leaned back, shifting his weight onto his back heel, as if he was being too casual.
"So what about Beatrice? Saturday not go well or something?" he asked, eyes darting over my face, moving from feature to feature.
"Why...why don't we just talk after practice? We should get started, we're running a little late. Since someone decided to get stuck in traffic," I said, giving him a pointed look, and he threw up his hands in exasperation, walking over and picking up his guitar.
I couldn't focus during practice. My mind was stuck on Beatrice and the kiss and Beatrice and Paul, trying to figure out where the pieces went even though I had no idea what puzzle I was trying to put together. None of us seemed to be paying much attention though, to be fair. Ace was staring off into space like always, Peter was chain smoking cigarettes more than usual. Paul wasn't even bothering to put in too much effort, singing just ever so slightly offkey.
Finally, we called it for a day, Peter and Ace scurrying from the studio room. Body growing equal parts heavy and light, I stared at Paul, feeling tingly.
"Alright, I'm a little confused," he said, leaning against the wall. "What exactly is wrong?"
"Why did you give Beatrice off to me?" I asked abruptly, and he laughed.
"Give her to you? I didn't give anyone to anyone. She's her own person, she gets to choose if she's with you or not. It's not like I'm handing off an object," he said, and I frowned.
He was right, but at the same time something was wrong. Paul didn't exactly have a long history of being extremely respectful and considerate of women on first dates that were intended to only end in one night stands. He was better than me, sure, but he wouldn't have been seeing Beatrice as anything more than a body on the first date.
"Why didn't you reschedule your date? Why didn't you even try dating her?" I asked. "That's what I don't understand. What's wrong with her that made you pass up on her? And don't say that you just wanted to be nice to me. We both know that's not true," I said, doing my best to keep my voice steady.
I didn't want anything to be wrong. I didn't want anything to pop my bubble of happiness, to take the perfect image of her and ruin it, to destroy the pedestal I had built for her and send her crashing down, taking my entire world with her.
There was a pause as he looked at me, expression unreadable, face infuriatingly neutral, before a soft sigh escaped his lips.
"Look, I just...didn't...want her," he said. "I don't know. I think I just saw too much of myself in her."
"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked, heart beating faster and faster, so anxious I was feeling numb.
"She just...she struck me as a little insecure. And we didn't seem to be very compatible as anything more than friends. I thought you'd have a nice time with her and I could find some other chick to have my way with, and I did. I was never planning on dating her, and I didn't know you were planning on doing that either," he said with a shrug.
We stared at each other for a moment before I spoke again.
"Have you heard from her?" I asked.
I didn't care anymore. I didn't care what his reason was, I didn't care if he was lying and she was secretly an awful person or a whore or a gold digger or someone with a mysterious past, I didn't care at all. The only thing I cared about was seeing her again.
"Not since she called me about meeting up with you on Saturday, no. You want me to call her and ask her something?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, giving me a curious look.
"No, I want you to give me her number," I muttered, before just shaking my head. "It's fine. I'm sure she'll call. When she wants to talk."
"How was Saturday?" he asked, and I smiled faintly.
"It was nice," I murmured. "I'm going to head out, I'll see you tomorrow," I said. "Let me know if you hear from Beatrice."
"Will do," he said, just standing there and watching as I left, and I was certain he stared at the door long after I had closed it behind me.
It was midafternoon now, the sun only just glancing at the horizon. I opted to walk home, wanting to just take the time to think and try and clear my head. I didn't know if I trusted what Paul had told me, but I did know I had decided not to care. She was mine, or she was going to be, that was all that I needed to care about.
"Mm, someone better call the Central Park zoo. Looks like one of their big dumb apes is wandering around downtown," a playful voice said.
I snapped my head up, staring at Beatrice in shock as she fell into step beside me on the sidewalk.
"Bea! What the hell are you--why are you even in this part of the city?" I asked in disbelief, hardly able to believe she was real.
She shrugged, brushing her hair over her shoulders, giving me a smile. "Maybe I work around here. You'll have to find that out yourself. But come on, are you saying you won't take me out to lunch?" she asked, slipping her arm through mine, bare skin pressed against mine. She was only in a short sleeved floral minidress today, showing off her perfect arms and the summer tan her creamy skin was beginning to get.
"I will be very happy to take you out to lunch," I said with a smile, snapping out of my daze. "Paul was saying he hadn't heard from you, I thought I had sunk my chances with you at the same time I sunk the boat."
"Your chance with me? Chance for what?" she asked in an exceedingly casual voice, prodding me to answer the question that we both knew I was asking.
The sand feeling was starting to fill my mouth again and I cleared my throat, turning to look down at her as she walked along beside me. She looked right back up at me, and for once I held my gaze on her eyes, despite how tantalizing her breasts were looking in her dress, bouncing ever so slightly with every step. I halted, pulling her to a halt too, and put my hands on her cheeks, gently tilting her face up toward mine. The sun made her eyes sparkle, giving her skin a warm glow. It made her look like even more of a goddess than she usually did.
"Chance...to be with you," I said quietly, leaning over and kissing her.
She didn't hesitate to kiss me back, melding her soft lips against mine, and I ran a hand from her cheek through her hair, resting on the back of her head, holding her in the kiss. It began to grow more heated, my tongue running along her lower lip, and I could feel her quiver just ever so slightly.
I took that as my cue, pulling away, still holding her face in my hands. She had that same starry-eyed look I had seen on Saturday, still tasted like strawberries. Her mouth was parted just barely, and she was panting slightly, and I noted it all with pleasure. So little from me and yet she was already on her way to falling apart.
