I took a long draught and reclined in the seat. When I looked at Carrie, she was watching me with narrowed eyes. I froze with the glass pressed to my lips. “What?”
“Why are we even doing this? You look miserable.”
That’s because I am. But it wasn’t her fault. It was my own. I’d done this to myself, and I would damn well suffer through it with a grin on my face. “I’m taking the woman I love out on a date. How could I be miserable?”
She eyed me. “I don’t know, but something’s off. What is it? Is it the suit?”
How could she read me so f**king well? “No. I’m fine, Ginger.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
I gritted my teeth. “Drop it. Kick back and enjoy the date, okay? Stop worrying about everything so damn much and relax.”
Her eyes flashed at me. I’d gone and pissed her off now. “No, I’m not going to relax. Something’s wrong and you’re not telling me what it is,” she insisted, her eyes flashing with determination. “Just tell me why you’re being all pissy and we can fix it.”
“Jesus, Carrie. We can’t fix everything with a conversation,” I snapped.
She blinked at me, her cheeks flushed with color. “You’re being a jerk,” she said, her voice soft. “I don’t like it.”
Immediately, shame rushed through me fast and hard and relentless. I was yelling at her when I was supposed to be showing her a good time. Being a good f**king boyfriend. I dragged a hand through my hair and forced a smile. “I’m sorry. That was mean. I’m just…tired and stressed out. Maybe I should have had another cup of coffee tonight.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said, her voice small and hurt. “You’re not being yourself right now, and it has nothing to do with coffee.”
Something snapped inside me, and I replied without thinking. “You’re damned right I’m not, because right now I’m realizing that this is the me I’m going to have to be from now on. I guess I hadn’t really thought about it much, but now it’s the only thing I can think about.” I finished the last of the whiskey and grabbed the bottle for some more. I could feel her watching me the whole time. “I used to attend these damn balls and galas, but I stood in the shadows, where no one saw me. Now when I go? I’ll be judged…and more than likely found lacking.”
“Welcome to my world.”
I slapped my hand on my knee. “I didn’t know it would be mine, too. I didn’t know…” I fought for the right words, but nothing came. “I didn’t know, okay?”
She looked confused. Her nose wrinkled up and she looked at me as if she didn’t even recognize me. “I didn’t ask you to dress up for me or to stand in the spotlight. You don’t even have to go with me when I go to those things. And I wouldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to do, so don’t act like I would.”
That might be true for now. But what if we got married? Had kids? The likelihood of me being off in the background was slim to none. People would want to know all about me—all about us. I couldn’t let her down.
“But don’t you see?” I splayed my arms. “I’ll do it for you, damn it. To make you happy.”
“This isn’t you. It’s not us.” She motioned at me, then the limo. “We don’t dress like this, and we don’t scream at each other in a limo. And it’s not making me freaking happy.”
“But you want it to be us.” I took a long drink, welcoming the burning sensation, and pointed my glass at her. “You do. Admit it.”
“What?” She paled, but her curled hands twitched in her lap as if she was considering hitting me. I deserved it. “Why would you say that? I’ve never—”
“I asked you on a date, and you got all excited about fancy dresses and limos and all that shit. You know where I wanted to go? Islands. Burgers and shakes. And as you so aptly pointed out—I like them. I’m that kind of guy.”
“And I like that guy. Actually, I love him,” she said, her eyes narrow on me. “But I’ll be honest. This guy?” She gestured toward me and the bar. “I don’t like him very much.”
I sat up straight and finished my drink, then set it down a little too hard. Maybe I’d had too much too fast. “Yeah, well, it’s the guy you’re going to be stuck with, so get used to it. I’d have been just as happy eating at a burger joint.”
“So we should’ve gone there,” she snapped. I knew she was angry with me now. Knew I’d gone and ruined everything. Hurt her. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself from lashing out at her. “You don’t have to take me out to an expensive restaurant to make me happy. God. You should know that by now.”
“Should I? I don’t think so.” I grabbed her hands, trying to entwine my fingers with hers, but she didn’t uncurl her fists. “The girl I know surfs and goes to soup kitchens and isn’t afraid to get dirty. The girl I know loves McDonald’s and Islands and doesn’t care about tuxes and dresses.”
She snatched her hands back. “Yeah, and that’s still me. Fancy dresses don’t change what’s underneath.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” I sighed and shut my eyes for a second, trying to find the right words to make her understand what I was thinking. When I opened them, she looked at me as if I’d killed her puppy in front of her and then served him up for dinner. “Look, I’ve been thinking, and—”
“Oh my God.” She scooted into the corner of the limo, her lower lip quivering. “Are you…are you breaking up with me? Already?”
My mind whirled at that. “What? No.”
She took a shaky breath. “You scared the heck out of me. Never start a fight and then say, ‘I’ve been thinking’ ever again.” She smacked my arm hard, then did it again even harder. “Got it, love? And also? Don’t take me on dates you’re going to hate. That’s not my idea of a fun time, for future reference.”
“Fine. But tell me one thing, Ginger,” I said, emphasizing the nickname in the same sarcastic way she’d done to me. “Why can’t you admit you f**king wanted this date and stop acting like you don’t? Why can’t you admit you want suits and jewelry and limos? Why can’t you admit who you are?”