Cupcake

As much as I tried, I couldn’t forget or shake how much Ashley’s words bothered me. Sure, she was young, but she spoke the truth. It was a sad fact. None of us could think of even one plus-sized princess.

What the heck was up with that?

Needing something to take my mind off everything, I said bye to Mom and the kids, got in my car, started the engine, then…just sat there.

I frowned. My mood was kind of crappy. I would’ve loved nothing more than to drive home, but I’d promised Rhys I would meet him.

There were only two problems with that.

1) I didn’t know his address.

2) I didn’t have his phone number to call and ask.

Maybe it was for the best, I thought, as I sent a text to Toni, telling her my situation and asking if she wanted to come watch a movie with me, since I probably wouldn’t be able to meet Rhys. If he had gotten so much better, then what was the point of us meeting anyway?

Toni sent me a response immediately.

Toni: The point is he invited you to his house, Ariel!!! A boy, a real boy!

Me: As opposed to a fake one LOL?

Toni: Haha, you’re so not funny :/. But seriously, don’t worry. I’ll handle it.

Me: What do you mean?

Toni: Just answer when the guy contacts you.

I rolled my eyes.

Me: Pretty sure he’d need my number for that—which he doesn’t have.

Toni: Are you sure???

Me: Unless he has some secret stalker-ish tendencies I don’t know about, then yeah. I’m sure.

Toni: LOL! You crack me up! Say hi to Prince Rhys for me 😛

I was still looking at her last text when a moment later, my phone rang. The call was from an unknown number. Though I’d usually hit ignore or let it ring, I was curious. The phone had been ringing for about a minute when I answered.

“Hello?” I said hesitantly.

“Princess,” Rhys’s voice said on the other end. “Your friend tells me you need my address.”

My eyes widened, and I felt myself smiling. Amazing. Toni could do anything when she put her mind to it. “Only if you still want to go over the dances.”

“You know it,” he said, and there was a ping on my phone. “Just sent you the info. Did you get it?”

“Yeah, I did,” I said.

“Need anything else?”

“No…but hey, I was wondering. How did Toni already have your number? I didn’t realize you two knew each other that well.”

“We don’t,” he said. “She messaged me on social media. I got a notification.”

For some reason, that made me sigh in relief.

“So I’ll see you in a few?” he asked. “I’ve been dying to show you my ‘sweet dance moves,’ as you called them.”

“Sounds good, Napoleon,” I said. “I’ll see you soon.”

Rhys sounded confused. “Who’s that?”

“Uh, Napoleon Dynamite? It’s this quirky movie with a cult following. Hilarious one-liners, a llama named Tina, big dance solo at the end. Ring any bells?”

“Nope, sorry.”

Figures, I thought. It’s even more obscure than the other ones he hasn’t seen.

“You really should watch more movies, Rhys,” I said. “There are so many awesome ones out there.”

He grunted. “Maybe. Are you on your way yet?”

“About to pull out of the parking lot,” I replied. “My GPS says I should get to your house in ten minutes.”

“Okay, well, I’ll hang up so you can focus on the road,” Rhys said. “See you in a few.”

“Yep, bye.”

“Bye, Princess.”

I wasn’t sure whether it was the nickname or his concern about my safety, but my heart warmed as I hung up the phone. The GPS was wrong—the trip took fifteen minutes with traffic, but I pulled up to Rhys’s house and parked on the street so I wouldn’t block anyone in. His one-story house was light blue with white trim. The lawn was small but well-kept, and Rhys’s car was in the driveway. Even if it wasn’t, though, I would’ve known it was his house based on the lawn sign that had his name and football number on it along with Go Trojans!

I knocked, and a few seconds later, Rhys answered the door.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” I said back. “Your house is really nice.”

“Thanks, I’ll let my parents know.”

Smart aleck.

“I’m also digging the sign.” I smiled, pointing to the lawn. “It’s very Friday Night Lights.”

“It’s embarrassing. I’ve asked my folks to take it down, but they won’t.”

“That’s because they’re proud of you,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah. Come on in, Princess.” Rhys gestured me inside. “I promise not to step on your feet this time.”

I nodded. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He placed a hand over his heart as I walked past him. “If it happens, I vow to help you to your car.”

“Okay, now I’m kinda scared.”

Two steps inside the house, I heard distant thumping—it sounded a bit like thunder. The noise got louder, and a second later, I was almost tackled to the ground by Rhys’s dog, who came zooming out of nowhere, throwing himself at me paws first, colliding with my chest.

“Oof,” I said as the dog planted big sloppy kisses all over my face.

“Hercules,” Rhys said in a stern voice. “Down boy.”

Amazingly, the dog responded.

“Sit.”

Again, the dog sat, looking between Rhys and me, his long tail wagging fiercely back and forth. But he didn’t jump up again. Considering his excitement from before, I was impressed by his restraint. What really won me over, though, were those chocolate brown eyes.

“Incredible,” I said in awe. “How did you get him to do that?”

Rhys gave a shrug. “We’ve worked on his training since he was a puppy. Hercules was always a quick study. He’s smarter than most humans.”

“I can see that,” I said, bending down to greet the big guy properly. I was no dog expert, but he looked like a German shepherd with a mixture of black and tan fur. Those eyes of his stared right back into mine with clear intelligence. “Very nice to meet you, Hercules. You are such a beautiful boy, and I hear you’re smart, too.”

“Hercules, shake hands,” Rhys said.

The dog lifted his paw, and I gave it a gentle shake.

“Good boy.” The fondness was clear in Rhys’s tone.

“And a gentleman, too,” I remarked. While I was petting his ears, the dog closed his eyes with a sigh. “Ah, what a wonder you are. Hey, is Hercules a Sandlot reference?”

“What’s Sandlot?”

Instead of answering, I just shook my head. “You’re killin’ me, Smalls.”

“I…have no idea what that means,” Rhys said. “But I think he likes you.”

“He seems like a sweetheart to me,” I said. “I bet he likes everybody.”

Hercules rolled onto his back, and I gave him what he wanted, petting his tummy until one of his legs started going wild. The movement made me laugh in delight.

“Princess, I assure you,” Rhys said, “he doesn’t respond like this to everyone.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, dogs can tell a lot about people. Hercules obviously sees you’re a kind soul.”

Rhys got down next to me to pet the dog, who looked like he was loving every second. Hercules’s tongue was out now, and his eyes were closed like he might fall asleep. We petted him for another minute—and to be honest, I could’ve stayed there much longer; Hercules was so cute—but we had to get started on the dancing.

Rhys led me into the house through a large living room. The sectional in the shape of an L took up most of the space, but there was a recliner as well as a coffee table that had been pushed back, creating an open space in the middle of the floor. The big screen TV attached to the wall was gigantic.

“You have that, and you never watch movies on it?” I said.

“No, it’s usually football for Dad and me, Hallmark for Mom, or games for my brother,” Rhys said, running a hand over his neck. “I have a TV in my room, too.”

He paused.

“But movies aren’t really my thing.”

Tilting my head, I said, “Yeah well, football isn’t my thing. But I watched your game and enjoyed it.”

“You did?” His lips lifted slightly. “Good to know.”

“My point,” I said, fighting down a blush, “is that movies are awesome if you give them a chance.”

“Wow, you’re really passionate about this.”

“Of course I am! Films provide an escape, make people feel less alone, give them hope and joy. A great movie can do all that and more.” I shrugged then continued, “It’s why they’re so fun to share. I love movies—almost as much as I love baking, and that’s a lot.”

Rhys stared at me a few seconds then said, “I guess I’ll have to try some then.”

I nodded, satisfied that he’d finally given in.

“So, is this where we’re practicing?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said with a half smile. “We could use the kitchen, if you want, or go outside—but the ground’s a little uneven in places. Or there’s always my room if we need more privacy.”

“Here’s fine,” I said.

“Okay.” Rhys stepped forward as I faced him. “Try not to be too impressed. Compliments make me blush.”

I rolled my eyes at that.

But as we got started, I couldn’t deny there was definite improvement.

First, Rhys kept his promise. He didn’t step on my feet once as we ran through Mr. Patachoui’s choreography. Second, he wasn’t counting out loud anymore. And third, he just seemed more confident. The music was playing on Rhys’s phone, and as we went through the movements, it was clear he had worked on this. At some point, Hercules had followed us and sat there, watching us dance with a content expression.

I smiled as the song came to an end.

“So, what did you think?” Rhys said, and I could tell he knew he’d done well.

I gave a shrug. “It was good.”

“Good?” His voice was incredulous. “That’s all I get? Come on, Princess. I was awful before, and I practiced my butt off. You’ve gotta give me more than that.”

“I thought you didn’t like compliments.”

“Well,” Rhys said, “I changed my mind.”

A laugh escaped as I took in the stubborn set of his jaw. “You did awesome, and you know it.”

“Now you’re just saying that.”

“Don’t be silly. You were wonderful.”

Rhys’s muscles relaxed as he cocked his chin. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” I said, “you must have practiced a lot. It looks so much better.”

“Feels better,” he admitted. “You want to go through it again? Dancing with someone is a little different.”

“I’d love to.”

As we restarted the dance, Rhys was even more confident, and though this was the one where we didn’t touch, every time his eyes met mine, I felt it like a physical caress. My mouth started talking without my permission. It was my mind’s sad attempt to fill the space between us with more than just tension.

“Did you know that some professional athletes take ballet to get better?” I asked.

Rhys’s brow scrunched. “I hadn’t heard that.”

“It’s true. Ballet is supposed to increase flexibility, help with footwork, improve balance. There are a ton of benefits.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Kobe Bryant even took tap,” I added.

“Really?” he said.

I nodded. “Yeah, it helped strengthen his ankles and avoid injury.”

“Well, tap I think I could handle,” Rhys said. “But I don’t see myself doing ballet. Not a big fan of tights.”

“Pretty sure the guys wear black pants. And I can definitely see you rocking a leotard,” I said then gave myself a mental slap.

Gah, why did I say that?

Because he’s beautiful, and you know he would look good in anything.

Yeah…but did I actually have to say it out loud?

Argh.

“Nah, I couldn’t pull it off,” Rhys said, his eyes moving over my body. “But I bet you’d look good in one.”

Although the music hadn’t ended, I stopped dead in my tracks.

“That’s not funny,” I said.

Rhys stopped, too, and crossed his arms. “It wasn’t meant to be.”

I couldn’t tell if he was serious. Rhys sounded sincere, but…

Okay, so I was good with my body. People had ideas about the perfect figure, and I knew mine wasn’t what others saw as perfect. That was fine. But leotards were like bathing suits, tight-fitting, rather revealing. The thought that Rhys might want to see me in one…

Was it hot in here or was that just my partner?