Chapter 41: Forty One
Cassie was busy, so the next best option was Declan.
I texted him late in the afternoon.
WILLOW:
Be honest, on a scale of 1 to 10 how would you feel about going shopping with me?
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
DECLAN:
Define “shopping.”
WILLOW:
I need something to wear for my presentation for Dr. Hart’s paper on Monday. Something that says yes i am so smart and i am also so hot
DECLAN:
So this is academic self branding?
WILLOW:
Exactly. With retail therapy undertones.
DECLAN:
Do I get to kiss you a lot?
WILLOW:
If you behave.
He replied with a single word.
DECLAN:
Fine.
We met just near campus, a more upscale shopping district than I usually ventured into, filled with boutique stores, glowing window displays, and the faint aroma of espresso and expensive perfume.
“You’re surprisingly punctual,” I said as he approached, hands in his pockets, sunglasses pushing his hair back.
“I didn’t want to be accused of sabotaging your professional aesthetic,” he said dryly.
I grinned. “Well, I appreciate your sacrifice.”
“You know, I never did all this. I’ve given all my presentations in jeans and a T-shirt.”
“You’re a man, appearances matter less for you.”
We started walking. His hand slowly touched mine, and he intertwined his fingers with mine. I breathed a deep sigh. I liked this. Being in public with him, holding hands, shopping. Like a normal couple.
I led him into a store that looked elegant and slightly intimidating. There were racks of tailored jumpsuits, sharp but hot dresses, and upscale work wear. I had put myself on a budget and wondered what I would be able to afford here. But everything looked so good.
Declan looked around, amused. “So this is where academics go to look hot.”
“Exactly,” I said, already starting my rifling through the hangers. “Help me find something that doesn’t make me look like I’m trying too hard.”
Declan stepped up beside me, scanning a few pieces with surprising seriousness. “This one’s interesting,” he said, pulling out a deep green wrap dress. “It’s elegant. Confident. Slightly dangerous.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re weirdly good at this. Lots of experience shopping for women?”
He smiled. “Jealous, are we?”
“Please.”
“I dated a stylist once,” he said absently. “It didn’t last.”
I tilted my head. “Because you’re impossible to shop with?”
“No,” he said, giving me a sly glance. “Because I was better at it than she was.”
I rolled my eyes but took the dress. “I’m trying this on.”
While I disappeared into the changing room, Declan waited outside.
When I stepped out, he looked up, and stilled.
“Well?” I asked, turning slowly, trying not to look too hopeful. I really liked this dress. It was simple but sophisticated. And my body looked so good in this.
His eyes swept over me, unreadable for a moment. Then something softer passed across his face.
“You look…” He cleared his throat. “God, Willow.”
Willow blinked. “That good, huh?”
He smiled. “Buy it.”
I grinned. “Yeah, I want to look at more things, first though.”
I picked up a few tops and ducked back into the changing room, still smiling from the way he’d looked at me in that deep green wrap dress, like he’d forgotten where we were for a second, like he wanted me right there.
This wasn’t for a date or a party or anything remotely romantic. I needed something smart and structured for my presentation on Monday, the one where half the department’s faculty would be watching. Including Declan.
But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t also hoping he’d like how I looked. That he’d notice, like always.
I tried on a few more outfits, a crisp cream blouse tucked into tailored trousers, a burnt orange midi dress with a belt that cinched at the waist, and one dark navy set that had just the right balance of sophistication and style.
Each time I stepped out, he looked up from where he was sitting, arms crossed, a tiny smirk tugging at his mouth.
“What about this one?” I asked, smoothing my hands down the skirt.
He blinked, then gave a slow, approving nod. “Honestly, no.”
“Oh?” I said, disappointed. “I actually really like this one.”
“I do, too. You look too hot, baby. All eyes would be on you.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“For you, yes. For me? Terrifying. I don’t want to punch anyone in the face for looking at you wrong.”
I snorted and turned back to the mirror. “You’re enjoying this more than you expected, aren’t you?”
He shrugged, unbothered. “I like watching you model for me.”
After I picked out two pieces, the green wrap dress and the navy set, we walked to the register, the hangers swinging lightly in my hand.
I handed the clothes to the cashier, and began reaching in my bag for my wallet.
But Declan stepped forward, handing the cashier his card before I could do anything.
“Declan,” I said, pulling on his arm to make him look at me. “Seriously. I invited you because I wanted your opinion. Not your wallet.”
He didn’t look at me as he signed the slip. “I know. That’s not why I’m paying.”
“Then why?”
He turned to me, expression calm. “You’re never paying for anything when I am around.”
I stared at him, unsure whether to feel touched or annoyed. “You don’t have to take care of me like that.”
“I’m not,” he said, meeting my eyes. “I just like doing things for you. Its not negotiable, Willow.”
I lowered my voice. “Really, you don’t have to. I can pay for my own clothes.”
“Good. Be happy about that, and don’t argue about me about this any more.”
He carried the bag without asking, even as I shot him a narrow eyed look.
“I let you pay, but I’m buying the food,” I said.
“No,” he said. “Choose where you want to eat. I’ve got it.”
“You’re so annoying!”
He gave me a look. “I told you. Stop arguing.” He was scolding me like I was a petulant child.
“You know - “
My eyes landed on a familiar face nearing us. Shit!