I extend my arm to her. “My lady.”
Paige smiles and wraps one hand around my elbow, and with the other, she lifts the hem of her dress before we navigate through the ballroom.
Paige strikes up a conversation with Dan and my mom as we stand next to their table, but I’m having a hard time focusing. Shortly after we made it to the table, I put my hand on the small of Paige’s back, and she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into me, her body resting lightly against my chest. We’re not hidden in a pantry now—we are out in the open for everyone to see us, and the thought of it both frightens and thrills me.
I rub my thumb lightly against her back, and she rests more of her weight against my body. Every time she gravitates closer, I can feel her acceptance of the unspoken changing relationship between us.
Dan starts laughing at something Paige said when the soft beat of Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect” comes on. I love talking with Mom and Dan, but with this song playing, I want to be alone with Paige. As alone as we can be in a crowded ballroom, at least.
I lean down to whisper in Paige’s ear, “I want to dance with you.”
She looks up at me, eyes shining. “Do you promise to behave yourself?”
“Maybe.”
“Jordan, these are Missy’s heels. If I break them dancing, you die.”
“I’d be willing to take that chance.”
She goes to smack my bicep, but I grab her hand in midair and tuck it under my arm before she can.
“Nice to meet you, Dan.” Paige waves to Dan and my mom before I lead her onto the dance floor.
Song after song plays while couples migrate on and off the dance floor, but Paige and I stay rooted in our spot, allowing the music to bring us closer together. Occasionally, a faster-paced song comes on, and while nothing wild is playing, I still manage to get a shimmy in now and then, which makes Paige laugh as her face goes cherry-red with secondhand embarrassment.
Eventually, Mom and Dan join us on the dance floor, and they shuffle slowly back and forth, seemingly lost in each other.
“They look really good together,” Paige says.
“I think so too. Mom seems happy with him.”
Paige tilts her head, looking curiously at them.
I study her. “What’s on your mind, Devons?”
“I was just wondering if this will be their song.”
I listen to the instrumental strums of Mary Chapin Carpenter’s “Grow Old With Me” that plays in the background.
“It seems fitting for them,” she adds.
I think about the song and my mom. I’ve never really imagined Mom growing old with anyone before. It’s only ever just been me and her. But after seeing her so happy in Dan’s arms tonight, I can’t help but agree. “It's a good one.”
“Do you know what else is a good one?” Paige asks with a gleam in her eye.
“What?”
“My song.” She gives me pouty eyes as if they will pry the name of her song from my lips.
I laugh. “Not a chance, Devons.”
“It was worth a try.” She sighs. “Though maybe a clue would be nice.”
“Hmm. A clue?” I tilt my head upward in thought. To be honest, her song doesn’t have many lyrics, and what’s there is practically a confession that I do not want to give in a crowded ballroom. But I can tell her a few things about the song without giving away too much.
A week ago, I wouldn’t dare say what’s on my mind, but tonight, I’m trying to open up to her. “Okay, I’ve got some.” This seems like a good baby step.
“Some?” Paige raises her eyebrows in surprise.
