Page 100 of Only Lovers in the Building

“I think she handled it well,” Lily said. “And I think you’re amazing.”

He dropped a hand on her knee and squeezed. “I’m starving. I could eat anything.”

“Your choices are shrimp scampi or slow-roasted pork,” she said. “It’s in the program, if you’d taken the time to read it.”

“Aren’t you a fountain of useful information?” He stood and pulled her to her feet. “I’m taking you everywhere I go from this point on.”

Ben did not let her stray far after that. He held her hand under the dinner table and only released it to reach for her waist on the dance floor. From Streisand to Celia Cruz, the tempo had picked up quite a lot. Ben was an excellent dancer, and the frilly dress she’d picked for the occasion redeemed itself nicely with each spin. When the DJ paused for a string of shout-outs, he guided her to the bar and ordered two waters.

“I’m cutting you off,” he said.

“You can’t cut me off!” she protested, laughing sloppily. “This isn’t the rooftop bar. You’re not the boss here.”

He handed her a cup. “Drink your water.”

The water was refreshing. Honestly, the endless flow of mojitos plus the champagne at dinner had caught up with her. “Thanks,” she said, with a pinch of resentment. “I needed this.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Want to hear something ridiculous?” she asked.

“Always,” he said.

“I lied to you earlier.”

He cocked his head. Whatever product had kept his hair slicked back had given up, letting his curls loose. “Why would you lie to me?” he asked. “I don’t judge, and there’s nothing I haven’t heard.”

“I was embarrassed,” she admitted.

“What about?”

“Earlier, when we were talking proposals . . . I was worried you might have proposed to someone in the past.”

He fought back a smile. “That was an unnecessary worry, I can tell you that much.”

Somehow, they’d made it out to the terrace. Home base had been taken over by the single ladies, so they moved to the edge. The views were endless, the dark water stitching seamlessly into the night sky. The breeze cleared her head more efficiently than a couple sips of water ever could. They were down to one cup, anyway, and they passed it back and forth.

“It was loud in there,” he said. “Now, tell me again how jealous you were. I love to hear it.”

“Get over yourself. It’s not that serious,” Lily said, regaining her communication skills. “I just think a Ben Romero proposal would be extra romantic with poetry and harp music.”

“Honestly, I’d just write a note and tape it to her door.”

Lily swooned. The woman who came home to that note was the luckiest woman alive.

Exhausted from the dancing, she leaned against his chest. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and drew her even closer. “My people put you through a lot today,” he mumbled into her hair.

“Your people are great,” she muttered.

After a beat, he said, “I find it hard to believe you were never proposed to.”

She looked up at him. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Does it have anything to do with my beauty, wit, and stunning intellect?” she asked.

Ben laughed into the night. “You’re the whole package.”