Page 93 of Good For Me

“Having hobbies is a good thing, River.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his jaw clenches. I’m trying to decide whether or not to push him on this, when the DJ’s voice booms out over the speaker, introducing Will and Eva as a married couple for the first time. Everyone cheers as they walk out to the center of the dance floor. They’re both grinning so big their faces have got to hurt. Again, my chest clenches with that strange ache—have I ever seen anyone so happy in my life?

As the couple begins their dance, I cast a glance in River’s direction. That unsettling expression from before still clouds his eyes and I hate it. I hate even more that I’m the one who put it there when I pushed him about playing music.

“I used to want to be a singer,” I blurt out, and his eyes snap away from his cousin, surprise replacing the tension on his face.

“Seriously?”

I nod. “When I was like, seven. I was totally obsessed with Ariana Grande.” His lips turn up in a smirk. “I used to wear my hair in the tall ponytail and everything. I would insist on putting on shows at the diner for my grandpa’s friends. And the staff. And whatever poor, unsuspecting customers happened to be there.”

He’s full on grinning now. “I wouldn’t feel too bad for them. You were probably adorable.”

“I was a damn cute kid,” I agree, relief washing over me when he laughs. “But there was one problem.”

“Yeah? What was that?”

I lean towards him, like I’m about to share some huge secret. “I can’t hold a tune to save my life.”

“So what you’re telling me is I should definitely attempt to get you up on that stage tonight?”

I narrow my eyes. “Do it and die.”

His eyes dart quickly down to my mouth, and I realize that I’ve inched even closer to him. Everything about my body language and my teasing voice makes it obvious—I’m flirting with River.

And I can’t find it in me to care. It feels like I’ve spent this entire weekend trying to bury my feelings for this man. Sitting here now, with him in that oh-so-dangerous suit, candlelight flicking around us, I’m starting to wonder why I bothered.

“You guys gonna sit there all night?” Everly calls as she dances past our table. I realize belatedly that the first dance has ended and more couples are streaming out onto the dance floor as the band starts something faster. River raises his eyebrows at me. “You up for it?”

A little thrill of excitement goes through me. I haven’t danced since that night at Ruby’s. “Sure.”

He grins as he stands and holds out his hand. “Then let’s go.”

River wasn’t kidding about his family liking to dance. We’re on the dance floor for hours—literally. We dance until my feet are sore and my hair is damp with sweat. We dance to fast songs and slow songs. As River predicted, his dad and uncles take the stage at various points. Ruby sings a Fleetwood Mac song and I pretty much freeze for four straight minutes, staring at her in awe as she belts it out. Some of the younger teens do a few songs, looking exceedingly pleased with themselves when their older cousins crowd the stage to cheer uproariously for them. Will and Eva even go up there and duet one of the songs they apparently wrote together with her band backing them up.

River doesn’t go near the stage, and I’m a little disappointed. Now that he’s told me he knows how to play, I’m kind of dying to hear it. I wonder if he sings, too. I wonder if his voice would be anything like his dad’s.

I’m coming back from a trip to the bathroom when I see River huddled with his uncles. Someone has a phone out and they’re all leaning over it, talking with their heads close together. They break apart before I reach them, and the smirk on River’s face tells me something is up.

“What’d you do?” I ask, narrowing my eyes in suspicion.

He places a hand over his heart, looking mock-wounded. “Why on earth would you think I’d do something? I’m an innocent, wholesome young man, Jasmine.”

I snort with laughter. “Uh huh. Sure you are.”

“Hey, of the two of us, I’m the only one who hasn’t been arrested.”

Before I can respond, the music stops and Cash steps up to the mic. “We have a special request. This one goes out to Jasmine, in an attempt to cure her of her terrible taste in music.”

I gasp, looking up at River. “What the hell?”

He’s laughing. “Just wait.”

It takes a few moments for the song to sink in. It’s an old Daft Punk song but they aren’t playing it the way I’m used to. Instead of the pulsing beat and synth that make the song cool, they’ve turned it into a basic rock version.

“You told them to do this,” I accuse.

“Of course I did.”