Page 70 of His Curvy Distraction

“Do you still want to get together this weekend?”

I looked up at her. “Do you? You haven’t told anyone about us, so I assumed?—”

“Daisy knows,” she blurted. “She didn’t know how to act when we saw you. And the others at book club know.”

“Really?” I couldn’t contain my grin.

She nodded. “Is that… is that okay?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Good.”

“So, does that mean you still want to get together this weekend?” I asked.

“Very much.”

“Good. It’s a date.”

She grinned. “Yes, it is.”

16

“Should I be offended that you’re late again?” I asked Natalie as she took a seat opposite me.

We were on a date. Our first official date. Where we both agreed to it and knew we were meeting each other.

She pressed her lips together in a smile. “I had a long day. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be here.”

“Well, that’s good. For once.” I smirked at her.

She shook her head. “Yeah, yeah. I told you I was awkward and anxious. You should have expected it.”

“And I wasn’t upset. Not even a little. Not last time and not this time. You look amazing, by the way.”

She did. Stunning. We agreed to a casual dinner, nothing overly fancy, and she was beautiful. Jeans that clung to her legs and tucked into short boots, a light pink sweater that brought out the pink in her skin and glowed against her dark hair.

“Thank you. So do you.” The way her cheeks darkened told me she wasn’t sure if it was okay to say that.

“Thank you.” I ditched my suit and went for jeans of my own and a lavender long-sleeved button-up shirt, untucked with no tie. It felt like a stretch after so long watching every little thing I did, but after two articles came out about me, trying to discredit me and gaining zero traction, I was done catering to my critics and ready to step into my own power.

“You look like you made a decision about something,” Natalie said, sipping her water and watching me over the edge of the glass.

I nodded, smiling at her insightfulness. “I was just thinking I’m happy to be here with you.”

She looked around, catching a few people watching us, and ducked her head, letting her hair fall in front of her face.

“Are you not feeling the same?”

Her gaze snapped to mine as her head shook quickly. “No. I am very happy to be here. But I… being the center of attention is not my usual.”

“People will forget about us soon enough,” I assured her.

She smiled and glanced around. “I hope so.”

The server approached and took Natalie’s drink order and asked if we were ready to order.

“I haven’t even looked at the menu,” Natalie confessed, opening her menu.

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