Page 38 of Give My Everything
“It’s not about whether or not I can stand up to them,” I clarify. “ThatI’m capable of. I’m the black sheep, remember?”
Ben chuckles.
“I know how to stand up to them. The reason I agreed to the marriage is because…” I pause, realizing I’m admitting this out loud for the first time.
“Because?” he prompts, his eyes turning to me briefly before returning to the road.
“Because…they’ll have a million questions about the father and I don’t think they’ll be able to handle the answers.”
Ben’s quiet for a moment, but when he does finally respond, I’m shocked at how well he gets me.
“Sometimes, it’s easier for people to believe the lies we’ve crafted about ourselves for protection than it is to get them to accept the truth.”
Neither of us says anything else as we continue down the road, on our way to a fancy dinner at The Royal as our first big outing together.
I guess it could be considered our coming out party, like those old cotillion things people used to do.
Scratch that—I don’t like that idea. The last thing I want is another weird pointless tradition to dictate or define what we’re doing tonight.
We have enough bullshit guiding us as it is.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve gone on a date,” Ben says, his voice warm. “Even longer since I’ve been to The Royal. This should be an experience.”
The Royal is an old hotel in Hermosa that faces a large beach-front park. It’s actually on the very edge of town, right near the Manhattan Beach Pier.
Which is probably why Ben picked it.
That end of town is filled with locals and money, and the people who frequent The Royal are the types to get our presence together into the grapevine faster than anything.
It really is perfect.
“I haven’t been on a first date in seven years,” I reply. “So just keep that in mind if I do something stupid.”
Ben laughs. “Don’t worry. We’ll be doggy-paddling through this thing together.” He pauses. “That will definitely make it seem more believable, I think.”
My eyes drop from his face and fall to my hands.
Is it wrong of me to hate when he brings up the fact that what we’re doing is for show?
I mean, logically I completely understand. But at the same time, how am I supposed to really commit myself to this…part? Yeah, part. How am I supposed to commit myself to it if he’s always yanking me out of the scene?
We pull into the drive of The Royal and my door is opened, a valet worker assisting me out of the car, his eyes on my legs. It might not be much longer that I’m able to fit into dresses like this one, so I wink at him, enjoying the attention.
“Remmy.”
Ben’s voice is curt, and when I look at him, I see his eyes narrowed in my direction.
I look back at the valet. “Thanks.” And then I walk to where Ben is standing, looping my arm through his.
It feels natural and not at all for show.
“You know, it would be easier to convince people we’re together if you weren’t encouraging the high school boys to give you lusty eyes,” he says, his voice low and only for me to hear as we walk through the front.
I snort. “Trust me, I don’t have to encourage it.”
His eyes narrow, but I can see something dancing behind them. Sometimes I wonder if he likes when I’m sassy.
“Ben?”
