�I know, it�s just�� I argued. I don�t even know what it �just� is. Maybe I�m just over-thinking things.
�It�s just what? Come on sweetie. We�ll have a nice dinner, just you and me. Please?� He opened his blue eyes wide and he knew I couldn�t possibly say no.
�OK� but I need to shower and get dressed,� I told him.
�I can chill down here if that�s alright,� he answered.
�Sure. Remotes on the table. I think Pretty Woman is on Cinemax. And the porn is still scrambled, so don�t even try it,� I said, leaning over to kiss his forehead.
�Funny, Nat!! Now get upstairs and shower! I�m starving!�
�Aye aye, Captain!� I called as I ran up the stairs. I ducked into the bathroom and started the water. I switched on the radio and hopped under the stream of warm water. I was lathering my hair (for the second time�never let anyone fool you�you MUST repeat!) when the fear started to creep up in my stomach. I hated going out with Taylor in public. Not that I was ashamed to be seen with him. Quite the opposite, actually. It was a complete rush to be with the most attractive person in the room. It was the people watching that worried me. Fans were lurking everywhere, no matter what Taylor said. Fans that hate me. The real irony of the situation is that I myself am actually the ultimate fan. Figure that one out.
I rinsed off the suds of my Cucumber-Melon body wash and stepped out of the shower. I wrapped myself in a towel and sprinted to my room to get dressed.
�What the hell am I going to wear?� I asked myself aloud.
�The denim skirt� said a voice from behind me.
�Shit Taylor!� I yelled, turning to face him. �Do you want me to die of a heart attack?�
�No,� he said innocently. �I want you to wear the denim skirt.�
�You are such�God, I don�t even know what you are! Now get out of here so I can change, JORDAN
Taylor!� I said tauntingly.
�Alright, Natalie FRANCES!� he taunted back. He turned on his heel and left me alone in the room.
�Denim skirt it is then,� I said as I grabbed it out of the closet.
I finished dressing and blow-dried my hair, then started on my makeup.
�Are you not done yet?� Taylor asked, appearing in my doorway again.
�I�m working on it! Not all of us are lucky to be as naturally beautiful as you,� I told him.
�Nat you know you�re cute. Now get ready or I�m gonna start eating your furniture!�
I put on a last coat of mascara and stood up. �OK! Let�s roll!�
We made it to the restaurant in record time and got seated immediately. After I had ordered my chicken vesuvio and Taylor his chicken marsala, he turned to look at me.
�You look great. Thanks for wearing the denim skirt,� he said, winking.
�No problem. Now if only you�d let me work on your clothes��
�What�s wrong with what I�m wearing?� he demanded.
�Nothing, sweetheart. Because I picked it out,� I told him, reaching for his hand across the table.
�I would have bought this sweater on my own,� he declared.
�I�m sure you would. Now then tell me where it�s from, smarty-pants.�
�It�s from�umm�well, we bought a lot of stuff that day�� he stumbled over his words as the salads arrived.
�Ahhh, saved by the lettuce. Lucky,� I teased him.
�I know where my clothes come from,� he insisted.
�I know baby,� I said, turning my attention to my salad. It was after only a few bites that I was interrupted.
�Excuse me?� I heard a female voice say.
�Yes? Can I help you?� asked Taylor politely.
�Yeah. Are you Taylor Hanson?� the girl asked him.
�That I am,� he said completely naturally.
�Hi. I�m Reagan,� she said, immediately turning on the charm. I could feel my hands clench into fists instantly.
�Hey, nice to meet you Reagan,� he continued. I absolute hate how I get pushed to the background when fans talk to him. I nearly choked on my tomato when I heard how he talked to her.
�You too Taylor. Can you sign something for me?� she asked, leaning over to hand him a napkin and a marker, making sure to show him plenty of cleavage.
�Sure,� he said, uncapping the marker and signing. �How old are you, Reagan?� he asked, offering her a sweet Taylor-smile.
�I�m seventeen,� she said.
�Ahh, very cool,� he replied, handing her the marker and napkin back. �Anything else I can do for you, Reagan?�
�God, I�m gonna sound like such a nerd�can I have a hug?� the girl asked. I just about jumped out of my chair and choked her with her own blonde hair.
�Sure,� Taylor said, getting out of his chair and walking to her. He opened his arms and she hugged him tightly. She looked me directly in the eye and whispered something in his ear that made him smile.
�Nice to meet you Reagan,� he said after the seemingly never-ending embrace finally ended.
�You too Taylor,� she said with a wink. She walked away and I looked at her closely. Her hair was obviously not naturally blonde and I could see her panty-line from a mile away. But what was the most obvious of all was the huge grin across my boyfriend�s face.
