Deleted scene
layla
I’m already flying through the clothing racks, my fingers pushing through the soft cotton as I find what I need.
My arms are loaded in under three minutes—dark-wash Levis that look like they’ll hug my hips just right, a couple of soft cotton tees in cream and faded yellow, and a chunky sweater that feels like a hug when I press it to my cheek.
I’m moving quickly, almost frantically, as if slowing down might let the embarrassment from earlier catch up to me again.
Reed’s leaning against the wall near the fitting rooms with his arms crossed, holding my iced coffee.
He observes me with a subtle, private smile, seeming willing to stand there endlessly if that’s what I want.
I spin toward him, holding up the jeans and a tee. “These okay?”
His smile widens as his eyes crinkle at the corners. “You’d look good in a paper bag, sunshine. But yeah, they’re good.”
Heat flushes my neck, spreading to my cheeks. I swiftly duck behind the thick cream curtain of the first fitting room to hide how red my face is from him.
I quickly try on all the clothes, starting with jeans that fit perfectly, then the soft, flattering T-shirts, and finally the cozy sweater I want to wear nonstop.
Each time I step out barefoot onto the cool hardwood floor, I do a small spin or stand there awkwardly, waiting for his opinion.
Every time he looks at me, it's like I hung the moon.
The first outfit I showcase is a pair of worn denim jeans paired with a cream tee.
He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, eyes slowly scanning me from my bare toes up to my face. “Jesus, Layla. Those jeans, fuck.”
I feel the blush creeping back again, as I snicker in response, running back into the changing room to show him the next outfit.
Keeping the jeans on, I throw on the pale yellow tee, pairing it with the oversized sweater.
I walk out again, turning around in a small circle for him.“Well?”
He exhales through his nose as he tilts his head back for a moment before meeting my gaze. “You’re killing me, baby. I love it when you wear yellow; it makes the honey in your eyes shine.”
He’s the only person who truly noticed my eye color, a trivial detail, but somehow it means everything.
Giving him a small smile, I finally respond. “You’re so sweet, Reed, stop.” I joke, holding my hand to my chest.
“You deserve it.”
Damn him.
Before I can cry in front of him again, I make my way back to the dressing room for the third time.
The last item of the evening, hanging alone on the far hook, a long, butter-yellow sundress.
It has a flowy chiffon skirt, a delicate lace overlay on the bodice, and thin straps that crisscross in the back.
I undress quickly, taking the dress off the hanger with shaking fingers.
Finally stepping out, the curtain swishes behind me. I clear my throat, grabbing Reed’s attention.
He lifts his head, adjusting his glasses, and he just stares.
For a full five seconds, he doesn’t move as he continues staring with his lips parted, and his eyes wide in utter disbelief.
He lets out a long, shaky exhale. “Sunshine…”
Slowly standing, he walks toward me until he’s close enough that I can smell the coffee on his breath and the faint leather of his jacket.
He leans his frame down, reaching out his fingers as they brush the hem of the dress where it skims my thighs, then trailing up to trace the lace over my ribs.
“You look…” He swallows. “You look amazing.”
I feel tears creeping in again, but I laugh instead to shake them off before I throw myself at him.
He catches me mid-step, his arms banding around my waist, lifting me just enough that my toes leave the floor.
I don’t care that we’re in a small boutique in Ruby Ridge, I don’t even care if my friends or their husbands see.
I kiss him desperately, pouring everything I don’t know how to say into gentle kisses.
He kisses me back as his hand cradles the back of my head, and the other splayed wide across my lower back.
We finally pull away from each other, both breathing hard, and he rests his forehead against mine.
“Grab everything,” he says, setting me down gently. “The jeans, the tees, the sweater, that dress; whatever else catches your eye. Whatever you want, baby. It’s yours.”
I look up at him, my heartbeat so loud I’m sure he can hear it.
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to.” He says, brushing his nose against mine. “Let me spoil you a little. Let me do something nice for the woman I can’t stop thinking about. Please.”
I nod because I can’t speak as tears slip free again.
He kisses them away, one by one, with a patience he surprises me with the more and more we spend time together.
I run back into the dressing room, throwing on my original outfit, and grabbing all the clothes I tried on.
He smiles at me when I walk back out, grabbing all the clothes I’m holding and nodding towards the register.
The girl behind the counter smiles and rings everything up without comment.
Reed hands over his card without even glancing at the total.
We step back outside, bags swinging from his hands, and the late-afternoon sun bathes everything in gold.
He stops me on the sidewalk, setting the bags down as he pulls me into his arms.
I wrap my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek to his chest, feeling his heartbeat thump in perfect rhythm.
Inside my mind, something long gone cracks open and begins to breathe once more.
This man, this gentle, steady, ridiculous man, sees me.
Not this version I’ve curated online, not the version I think I should be. Just... me. Babbling when I’m nervous, crying too much, insecure, hopeful, scared—all of it.
And he doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t try to fix me. He just wants me as I am.
I’ve never experienced that before.
I didn’t realize it could feel like this, like safety and wildfire all at once.
I tip my head back, looking up at him. “Thank you,” I whisper.
He smiles, slightly leaning in as he presses a kiss to the tip of my nose.
“Anytime, sunshine.”