Eleanor’s hand faltered, slopping curry sauce all over the table.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked warily.
Ben continued plating up, seemingly unaware of her reaction. ‘As in … how’s he doing? How’s his mum?’
Eleanor willed her pounding heart to quieten; it was practically beating out the confession against her ribs.
‘I haven’t actually spoken to him since the weekend. I’ll message him later.’
No, you won’t.
Another pang of guilt stung her. Guilt about kissing Fin. Guilt about not speaking to Fin. Guilt sitting here with the lovely Ben, thinking about the kiss with Fin. How many more feelings could she realistically carry in her tiny heart?
‘Remember, us men don’t tend to find talking about our emotions easy.’ He twirled his Singapore noodles around on his fork. ‘He might need a little encouragement.’
She flashed what she hoped was a sincere-looking smile. ‘Gotcha. Do some poking.’
Do some poking?
What the hell are you saying, woman!
Ben choked with laughter. ‘I mean, if you want to say it like that, then sure!’ His eyes twinkled cheekily. ‘But don’t dotoomuch poking. Save some for me, please.’
Eleanor’s cheeks flushed pink again. ‘Stop that.’ She slapped him gently on the wrist.
‘You said it, not me.’ He winked.
Silence settled over them, comfortable and calming as it always was between them. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Eleanor’s inner world. Her anxious mind was never easy to deal with, but tonight it was reaching new heights.
‘By the way, what are you doing next Friday?’ Ben asked, pushing his cleared plate away proudly.
Eleanor narrowed her eyes suspiciously. ‘Nothing … why?’
‘Do I need a reason for wanting to take my girlfriend out for dinner?’ He grinned.
Eleanor’s mind tripped over itself.
Girlfriend?
Did he say girlfriend?
‘Look at your face!’ He laughed loudly. ‘You look terrified.’
‘No, I don’t.’ She rearranged her expression hurriedly. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to say that.’
‘The dinner part?’ He leant in and smirked. ‘Or the girlfriend part?’
‘You know what part,’ she cried childishly.
‘Well?’ he asked.
‘Well what?’
‘Will you come to dinner with me on Friday?’ Ben reached his hand out and placed it over hers. ‘As my girlfriend?’
Her storming mind quietened at his touch. ‘I’d love to,’ she replied, sparks of anticipation dancing across her skin.
‘Good.’ He grinned. ‘Now, my next question is … what’s for dessert? Because I’m really hoping it’s you.’
