Chapter 10
There’s always room for romance
I hate shopping. Loathe it. Would rather shit in my hands and clap than roam the shopping centre in search of clothes for myself.
Yet here I am, in the middle of the shopping centre, searching for clothes for myself. At least my hangover has now subsided, thanks to Connor’s early intervention and a hot, cleansing shower.
The shopping centre is a half-hour drive from Connor’s house, the entirety of which I spent fidgeting in my seat uncomfortably.
Connor talked the whole way here about nothing in particular, and I nodded along, muttering the occasional ‘Oh, really?’ but not really taking much in.
I knew what was going to happen, and I was mortified by the idea of spiralling in front of Connor.
Having a meltdown in front of anyone would be embarrassing, but in front of the man who teased me mercilessly for years?
I decided by the time we parked the car that, should I have a full-blown panic attack in front of him today, I would move to Australia and start a new life there, simply to avoid the inevitable taunting that would follow.
Yes, Connor has been lovely since we agreed to the truce, but leopards can’t change their spots, right?
So now, here we are, in the middle of the huge shopping mall, people rushing by in all directions.
Everyone seems to be power walking between shops, bags swinging from their hands, eyes glued to their phones so they can’t see where they’re going or what they’re walking into.
Panic starts to creep in, and I shuffle a little closer to Connor.
Sensing my unease, he throws his arm across my shoulders and pulls me near enough to smell his comforting, warm scent.
I breathe it in and feel my heart rate start to slow back to a normal pace.
“How about grabbing a coffee first?” he says.
“Good idea.”
Connor guides me towards the coffee shop, and we join the long queue, his arm still around my shoulders. We order our drinks to go, and give our names. I pay (despite Connor’s many protests), and wait at the end of the counter for them to be made.
“Thanks for coming with me,” I say after a couple of minutes of awkward silence.
“No problem.” He smiles down at me. “I’ll always be there if you need me.”
He sounds so genuine that I wonder if this leopard has changed. Is it possible that Connor is genuinely a good guy now? Before I have chance to respond, the barista calls my name.
“Tilly?” He looks around and his eyes fall on me as I step forward to claim my drink.
“That’s me, thanks.” I step out of Connor’s hold and reach for my skinny caramel latte, but the barista pulls it out of reach.
“Nice name, Tilly.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, which look me up and down, analysing me.
I squirm under his gaze, listing all the flaws he’s probably finding. My arm moves to cover my stomach, and I twist slightly to try to make my hips look narrower.
“Thanks,” I mutter and reach out a trembling hand for my drink again, just for him to pull it further back.
Leaning over the counter and getting uncomfortably close, he says, “How would you like to—”
“Ready?” Connor asks me as he moves to my side and puts his arm back around me, this time around my waist. He turns his attention back to the barista. “Mine should be there too, for Connor? We’re in a bit of a rush, actually.”
The barista looks between us. “Yeah, man, it’s on its way.” He doesn’t look at me again before turning to finish making Connor’s drink.
I wait for Connor to take his arm from around me, but even after he has his drink and we leave the coffee shop, his arm doesn’t move from the small of my back.
It’s not suffocating, as I had expected it to become, more a gentle reminder that he’s there, that I have someone looking out for me.
We sip our coffees as we walk, neither of us mentioning what just happened, and head towards the first shop.
“So, what are we looking for?” he asks, glancing around at the racks of clothes.
“Just something for this night out, then we can go. Some jeans and a top will be fine.” I’m desperate to get this over with as soon as possible, but Connor doesn’t seem to be on board with my plan.
“What about a dress or something for a change? And you said you need more clothes for every day, too.” He looks at me hopefully with his warm brown eyes, and I find I can’t say no. Despite how much I might want to.
“Okay, I’ll have a look.” I can’t help but grin when Connor gives me a proud look.
“That’s my girl.” He leads me further into the shop with a small press on my back. “Do you want me to stay with you or leave you to look and meet you in a few minutes?”
“Would you stay with me? Only if you don’t mind,” I add, realising he might have been looking for an out by giving me the option. To my surprise, he smiles and nods.
“Of course. Lead the way.”
I turn and look around, trying to get my bearings. Jeans of all fits and all shades of blue hang in neat rows to my left, shirts and tops to my right, and directly in front of us is the going out section: dresses, skirts, playsuits and tops in a dizzying variety of colours, fabrics and cuts.
The options are overwhelming. I’m sure this would be many women’s candy shop.
Sadly, I’m not one of those women. I swallow the lump forming in my throat and walk towards the beautiful clothes, touching the material of each one as I pass.
I love clothes, which I realise is ironic given my fear of shopping, but that’s because I hate the way clothes look on me. They look gorgeous on everyone else.
My eyes are drawn to a deep green silky dress with a low neckline and thin straps.
The skirt would end just above the knee but has a small slit up the side.
It’s simple but sexy. It’s a shame I’d look ridiculous in it.
The fabric, designed to cling to a woman’s curves, would only cling to my belly fat, and the slit up the side would gape open around my thighs.
I give the dress one last stroke and turn to move on.
“Don’t like it?” Connor asks, taking a second to look at the dress himself.
“It’s not my colour,” I say dismissively.
Next on my radar is a black tailored jumpsuit.
The trousers are wide-legged, which would make my legs look even wider than they already are, and the blazer-style top is sleeveless, which would put my bingo wings on full show.
That’s a ‘no’ for this one too. I purse my lips in disappointment and try to ignore the growing, almost painful, discomfort in my chest.
Connor looks at the garment, his eyes focusing on the plunging neckline. “Not a fan?”
“Jumpsuits are a pain when you need the loo. It’s too impractical.”
And so, we continue around the shop, and several shops after that.
I keep expecting Connor to get irritated by my dismissal of every item of clothing, but he doesn’t.
Sensing my growing anxiety and frustration, he suggests stopping for a drink to hit the reset button.
He leads us into a nearby shop called Novel Concept.
I’ve never been into this shop before, never even noticed it tucked away in the corner, but feel at home as soon as I walk through the door.
The shop is half cosy café and half bookshop.
The half to my right is filled with quirky bookshelves and tables laden with books and anything you might need to make the perfect reading nook, like blankets, candles and literary ornaments.
To my left is a selection of mis-matched yet perfectly coordinated sofas and armchairs and a small counter with a coffee machine and selection of cakes and snacks.
But what soothes me most is the smell; a mixture of coffee, paper and whatever scent the candles on the nearest table are.
I make a mental note to buy three of them before I leave.
I gaze around me, stunned at this little piece of heaven I never knew existed, my trance only broken by Connor clearing his throat.
He grins. “You like this place, then?”
I nod and turn to examine the blankets piled on the table in front of us.
They’re pink and grey cashmere, and oh my God are they soft.
Would it be inappropriate to rub it against my cheek in the middle of the shop?
I decide against it. The label says they’re locally and ethically made.
It also says they’re a hundred and thirty pounds, so I pull my hand away before I can accidentally damage one and have to pay for it.
“I have a couple of things I need to do while we’re out, do you mind if I leave you here for twenty minutes?”
“Connor, you could leave me here for twenty years and I wouldn’t mind!” I smile at him, and he smiles back, taking a couple of steps back before turning to leave.
I take another look around, the smile still on my face as I take in the view.
I grab a basket from by the front door and make my way to one of the tables piled high with books.
My chest finally loosens and is no longer painful, and I feel my tense muscles start to relax.
After a frustrating morning, I finally feel content in my own candy shop.
Connor finds me almost exactly twenty minutes later in the Romantasy section of the shop. I’m too busy reading the blurb of a new release to notice him walk up behind me, so I jump when I hear his voice close to my ear.
“Looks like your basket is already full.”
I take a moment to get my heart rate back to normal after being jump-scared, then grin at him, one eyebrow raised.
“There’s always room for romance.” I add the book I was holding to the precarious pile in my basket. It’s only then that I notice his hands are full of bags. “You’ve been busy,” I say, surprised.
His face falls, and he suddenly looks uncomfortable.
Did I say something wrong?
“Yeah, about that—”
“You don’t have to tell me anything, it’s none of my business.”