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I wrinkled my nose. “That sounds disgusting.”
“We’ll never know because sadly, it doesn’t exist. Or if it does, I’ve never come across it.” He peered at me. “What’s your favorite flavor?”
“Vanilla.”
He laughed. “That’s so boring!”
“No, it’s not!” I protested. “It’s actually the most popular ice cream flavor in America.”
“No way,” he scoffed.
“It’s true,” I insisted. “Think about it. It’s versatile. You can put chocolate on it. Or nuts or strawberries or caramel or anything.”
“But that’s not plain vanilla. That’s a sundae.”
I shrugged. “It’s still vanilla ice cream underneath it all.”
He considered. “Okay. I see your point. My turn. What—”
“Nope,” I cut him off teasingly. “You asked me about ice cream.”
“Wait, that wasn’t… okay, okay.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Have it your way.”Damn.I had a feeling I was going to pay for this with the next question he asked.
“Would you rather be able to fly or breathe under water?” I asked.
“That’s a good one.” Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees as he stared into space. “Do I have any protection against sharks?”
I laughed. “I don’t know. It wasn’t part of the question.”
“Fly,” he decided as he leaned back in his chair. “That would come in handy with LA traffic.”
I nodded. “Wise man.”
His eyes locked on mine. “What’s your idea of the perfect date?”
My mouth went dry as I stared back at him. I carefully placed the cards in my lap so that my shaking hands wouldn’t be as obvious. For other contestants, the question might have come across as light and fun, but considering what was going on between Trenton and me, the question was less than innocent.
I gulped. “April twenty-fifth?” I attempted a laugh.
Trenton leaned forward and resting his elbows on his knees again. “Nope. You’re not getting off that easily. What’s your idea of the perfect date?” He asked again. “To clarify, I want to know about the date that involves a love interest, not the calendar.”
“Um…” I laughed again to buy some time. “If the person is the right person, then where we go or what we do doesn’t matter.” It was a copout answer, and I knew it. But this question had crossed the line into intimate territory. Trentonhatedpersonal questions in interviews, so why would he ask me something like this?
“Is that your final answer?” His eyes bored into mine.
I borrowed from the store of bravery I normally kept reserved for singing. “I would like for him to take me somewhere new and different, somewhere I’ve never been before. Bonus points if it’s one of his favorite places as well.”
Trenton continued staring at me.
I swallowed thickly. “What is your idea of the perfect date?” My voice came out deeper than normal.
His gaze didn’t waver from mine. “I’d want to do something a little more personal. Maybe cook her dinner at my house or go to a gathering with my close friends. I’m kind of a private guy, so for me to bring someone into my inner circle is a big step.”
I stopped breathing. The EMTs were going to have to come onto the stage and resuscitate me. No one watching the broadcast would realize the significance of his answer, but I sure as hell did. It seemed Trenton was sending the message I’d been looking for, and I’d received it, loud and clear.
Trenton
“Cut!” the director called. “We got what we needed.”
