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His head flashes to mine and I worry he’s going to crash the car.
“You want to stop?”
NO!
“No!”
He relaxes into his seat. “Then let’s just go with the flow.”
I snort. “Do I look like the kind of girl that goes with the flow without going crazy in the process?”
We’re stopped at a red light, and he uses this time to look me over, a long lingering look that has the hair on the back of my neck standing to attention.
“OK, how about this?” He focuses on the road again and I resume breathing. “We keep doing it as long as it benefits both of us.”
Huh. That sounds reasonable.
“The media attention isn’t going away,” I warn him. “So, we may need to keep this up for a while longer.”
The smile he gives me is pure happiness and my heart pitter-patters in response.
“Are you OK with that? The media? The paparazzi? I know it’s a lot.”
It is, but it also isn’t when compared with what I’m getting in return. Because I’m getting him.
“It’s not too bad, but I have been thinking of something you can do for me…” I trail off, wanting to ask him for this one thing but not sure how.
“Yes?”
“Well, we have this Hospital Charity Ball coming up.” I stop. Am I really going to ask him to be my date at this event where we’d be seen by all my work colleagues? Present and future? “And I was wondering if you’d be my date,” the words rush out of my mouth.
I guess I am going to ask him.
“Are you asking me to go to the ball with you?” He beams a smile, and I’m blinded by it.
“Uh, yes?”
“Just tell me when. And I’ll be there.”
That was easy.
“Are you sure? It will probably create even more interest in our relationship. It’s probably going to end up in all the magazines and people will make a big deal of you and…in fact, I’ve changed my mind. Don’t worry about it. It’s a stupid idea.”
He’s quiet for a long while and I bite my tongue to stop from filling the silence.
“This ball? Is it important to you?” I nod. “Then I’ll be there.”
My insides quiver. He’s going to be my date for the ball. The teenage Natalie who never got asked to the senior formal squeals with excitement and I sit on my hands to stop from throwing myself at him.
“OK, that sounds good.”
“It sounds more than good.”
We stop in front of my house and Matthew turns to face me. “For me, taking you to this ball will be a re-do of the senior formal where I was denied that pleasure.”
What. Did. He. Just. Say?
“Ah, uh, huh, yup.”
