He was leaning against the wall, hands in his back pockets, and he was smiling down at her. There was even . . . head-tilting.

My boyfriend was leaning and head-tilting at another girl. And not any girl. Mary Beth Riley, who practically had a neon sign flashing “TAKE ME NOW, RYAN BRADSHAW!” over her head.

“Is she chewing on her straw?” Bee asked quietly, and I narrowed my eyes. She was. She was totally chewing on her straw and smiling and head-tilting and—

Before I could think it through, I was walking over to the Starbucks, Bee trailing a few steps behind. “Ryan!” I called, smiling broadly.

He swiveled his head at the sound of my voice, but there was no guilt in his face. Mary Beth, however, jumped a little.

“Are you following me?” I asked him, coming in close to slide my arm around his waist. “I told him Bee and I were doing some shoe shopping today,” I informed Mary Beth, who gave me a sickly smile.

“Actually, no. I was here to pick up my tux. Check me out, renting a full six weeks early.”

“You’re a good boyfriend,” I conceded. And he was, which was why I couldn’t stand idly by and let other girls chew straws at him.

A thought occurred to me. Ryan said he was picking up his tux for Cotillion. Ryan was supposed to escort me to Cotillion, and while the night wasn’t as big a deal for guys as it was for girls, I knew Mrs. Bradshaw was on the committee at Magnolia House. She expected her son to go. And if I wouldn’t go with him . . .

Bee must have been thinking something similar, because she turned to Mary Beth. “Do you have an escort for Cotillion?”

A sudden flush spread up Mary Beth’s neck. “Not yet,” she answered, and I saw her gaze flit to Ryan.

I moved in a little closer to him. Okay, this Paladin thing had already derailed my life enough. Turning Saylor Stark down was supposed to mean getting my life back, not ruining Cotillion for my best friend and handing my boyfriend over to Mary Beth Riley.

Bee glanced over at me, a little smile tugging the corner of her lips. “Bummer. I mean, it seems like all the decent guys at school are taken, and really, what are the chances of someone suddenly becoming available?”

The great thing about best friends is that they know you really well. And the terrible thing about best friends is that . . . they know you really well. Bee knew that the thought of Ryan taking Mary Beth to Cotillion was killing me. And what better way to get me to change my mind about Cotillion than to dangle that possibility?