“Gah, Ben. I’m so sorry.”
I laugh and Nate softens. The relief that washes over me is immense. I hate being this way with Nate. I should just tell him the truth. Or at least part of it.Nate, I don’t want you to keep trying to set me up.Elias was just flirting with me because I asked him to.
But if he knew that, would he give up? Or would he pivot and try even harder to find me a date?
“Elias, huh? Is that why you invited him to the party?”
“Um … partly? I do really think he needs to get to know everyone better.”
Nate rubs his chin. “I agree.” His eyes dart all over my room, as if afraid to land on me.
“What is it?”
“Nothing, it’s just … is Elias really a good fit for your first time?”
My face gets hot.
“It’s just … at least Tom was more your style. Obviously, if he reminds you of your dad, that’s not going to work, but we could find you someone else, someone more … suitable, someone who?—”
That bubble of anxiety floats to the surface again. I interrupt him.
“I like Elias.”
He stops talking, blinks hard before nodding. “Okay, you like Elias.”
“I’m sorry, Nate. I appreciate you trying to find me someone, but I’m okay. You don’t have to do that anymore.”
He nods. Did I hurt him? Should I just tell him the truth? I play with how that might go. How it might sound in his head, even if I try to sugarcoat it.
You’re annoying me, stop it. I don’t like the people you try toset me up with. I don’t want to date anyone you introduce me to because it depresses me when all this time I’ve wanted to date you.
Definitely not.
“Elias it is then,” Nate says, slapping his thighs before he stands up. “What costumes are you guys going to wear? Is Elias intoStar Wars?”
Shoot, I wonder if Elias will be up for dressing like Yoda?
10
ELIAS
Emergency!
We need to figure out our costumes.
Ichuckle to myself. Why does he keep starting every text with ‘Emergency!’ and all those emojis? I keep almost mistaking his messages for marketing and transferring them to spam.
You choose.
He keeps typing and then deleting it again. In the end, I put my phone down and go and do something else. When I come back, he’s finally hit send.
How up for dressing like Yoda would you be?
I bark out a laugh. I’m still grinning when I fixmy hair in the mirror.Stop that.
Wouldn’t it be better to dress me as something sexy? Maybe something I can move in?
Plus, unless Ben has a thing for Yoda—in which case, we’ll have to have a talk about that—he’s not going to find me sexy if I’m dressed as a big green, furry thing. Fifty percent of flirting convincingly is actually finding the other person attractive. I’m not Daniel Day-Lewis and neither is he.
