Aftertaste (Sin #2)

XIX.

"I'll ask Sam to go shopping with me. I need a dress for Friday," I think out loud.

Alexander lifts his head and looks at me, stopping the movement of swirling the spoon around to cool down our dinner. "Sam? Are you sure?" he asks, his voice having a weird strain to it that makes me look at him weirdly.

"What's wrong with going with her?"

I see he's forming an answer in his head that I'll like to hear rather than just say something outright. "She has a very different style than you do," he points out softly.

I huff. That's an understatement. I feel like a grandma next to her. "Yes, I know, but I can't go in jeans and a sweatshirt."

Alexander frowns. "What's wrong with that?"

"Babe," I say chidingly. "You can not be serious." He's been to a lot of parties before. He knows what's acceptable to wear for both guys and girls, whereas that is an unfamiliar territory for me.

"I can go shopping with you then."

I'm shaking my head before he can even finish the sentence. "No way." He's way too overprotective and I'd probably end up looking like a nun. "I need a hot, short dress and you'll only get to see it when I wear it."

He mulls this over and I see his jaw working, trying to say something. I raise my eyebrows, challenging him to say what's on his mind, but he only sighs. "Who's all going to be there?" he asks, wanting to sound nonchalant about it. He looks down at the plate, taking a spoon of food into his mouth.

"Just a few of her friends. She said she doesn't want to celebrate big-style."

While Alexander's chewing, he's looking directly at me in thought. His eyes are so focused on my face, it makes me squirm in my seat. "Are you comfortable going alone?" he asks when he swallows the food.

I know why he's asking me this. I absolutely hate clubbing for what happened to me years ago. That was a terrible experience mostly because I was surrounded by terrible people. "Yes. For the most part. I mean, June's going to be there and she's really nice. Right?" It sounds like I'm starting to overthink my decision now and create doubts.

Alexander merely shrugs. "I don't know her that well," he responds. "Can we make a deal?" He puts his elbow on the table, still holding a spoon in his hand and he puts his hand under his chin, the spoon sticking into my direction, waiting for my response.

"What kind of a deal?" I ask, apprehensive. He better not say that I shouldn't go anywhere because that won't sit well with me. I need to learn how to not be so dependent on him for everything and that means going out and spending time with my friends without him.

"I want you to text me throughout the night just so I know you're alright. How about one text every 15-20 minutes? If you don't text, I'll take that as if you're not okay – in any way you take it."