I wanted to ask him but even after practising the question in my head it still sounded clumsy; dumb; naive even. He's sitting next to me; one hand holds his phone against his ear, the other rests casually on my knee as I pretend to read. He doesn't even know how much I'm struggling to think of the words to say to him. I don't know why I'm so nervous, it's just Tom. I've known him for years. I know every inch of him and yet...
"Is something on your mind?" Tom's voice makes me jump and blink wildly at him.
"What?" I drop my book.
"You're so jittery" he points out, picking up my book "look at your leg." I look down to see my leg shaking, I'm so transparent...
"Sorry" I try to smile but Tom's brow just furrows in concern.
"You know you can tell me what's wrong."
"I know but it's just uh, stuff, writing stuff. I've run into some writer's block" I lied, what a chicken. Come on! Just tell him!
"I don't know if I can really give any advice on that" Tom admitted but he smiled regardless "we could go out for coffee? Maybe that would help get your creative juices flowing?"
"That sounds good."
Tom chatted to me as we made our way down to the nearest cafe. I nodded and smiled and laughed in all the appropriate places but I still felt distracted. Last night I had basically confessed that I loved him and he had (thankfully) returned the feelings. He was holding my hand and smiling in that special way that made my heart flutter extra fast but I still felt anxious as hell. It had all happened so quickly that I wasn't one hundred percent sure where we stood. I needed him to be blunt; I needed clarity.
"Tom?" I asked bravely after spooning a little whipped cream from my hot chocolate.
He looked at me while sipping at his coffee "Hmm?"
"Um, I, uh" I was stumbling again. Abort mission! "Sorry, nothing, I lost my train of thought."
"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, looking increasingly worried.
"No, yeah, I'm fine." I said sipping at my hot chocolate which was the temperature of Satan's bath water but I let the scalding beverage burn my tongue and changed the subject "so how's work?"
What happens if he thinks I'm super dumb for asking about our relationship? The thoughts plagued me throughout our cafe trip (date?) and all the way back home. He'd probably think I was (a) an idiot and (b) think I didn't want to be with him which would all result in © him leaving me. At least we'll be even.
"Um, Tom, can I ask you a question?" I said, trying to sound confident and casual.
"Didn't you just ask me a question?" He responded with a wolfish grin that made me roll my eyes.
"Yeah thanks dad" I said crossing my arms.
"I couldn't resist Dove, go on."
Don't ask him don't ask him don't ask him "Well it's just that" I started but already my words were catching in my throat, refusing to exit. Oh God he is going to laugh and say it's the most ridiculous question ever! "It's a bit silly and pointless a question really. I don't think you'd even like this question." I rambled.
"Then why ask it?" he countered.
"Okay" that shut me up. I concentrated on the film instead, scolding myself internally for being such a fool. It's quiet for about five minutes and then Tom sighs softly.
"What's your question?"
"Well, um, are we uh, dating?" I cringe as the words come out "I mean, what is our relationship exactly? Would I introduce you as my boyfriend? Is it too premature to say that?" I babbled.
Tom looks fairly amused and surprised by my question (or should that be questions?) He laughs just like I thought he would but it's far from mocking, in fact its light, pleasant laughter. "Is this what's been bothering you all day?"
"Well, yeah."
"You can call me your boyfriend if you want."
"So we're dating?" I perk up; glad that this is going where I want it to go.
"I'd say so, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah, I suppose so" I said shyly.
"Although honestly, given our history I'd rather be more than your boyfriend but I know that you want this to be slow, right?"
"Is that okay?"
"As long as I'm with you, I don't care."
