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"Whatever my daddy wants." She patted my cheek and swept out the door, leaving me to follow behind.
My balls were going to be blue as hell at this rate.
I stepped into the shoe shop and stood back, watching Lexie move from shelf to shelf, eyes wide as she saw the prices of each pair.
"These cost more than a month's rent," she whispered. She lightly touched the toe of a pair of Louboutins as though she was scared her touch might break them and she'd be forced to pay.
"They're nice," I said. Not very practical, but that seemed to be the point of women's footwear. Heels, anyway.
"For the price, they should be more than nice," she said. "They should be absolutely incredible and probably be able to cook a three course meal."
"I'll settle for convincing my mother we're seeing each other," I said. "Nothing says 'committed' like a pair of shoes like that."
"Nothing says 'you should be committed' like paying that much for a pair of shoes," Lexie said dryly. "I have a nice pair of flat shoes at home. They're a little worn?—"
I picked up the Louboutins and pressed them into her hand. "Try them on."
"I can't." She placed them back on the shelf.
"Of course you can," I insisted. I started to reach for them again, but she placed her fingers on the back of my hand.
I felt as though I'd been struck by lightning. Her touch was a jolt of pure electricity all the way to my core. I cleared my throat. "I don't mind paying."
She smiled. "They're not my size."
"Ah." That was a different story then.
Her smile widened. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. They really are expensive, though. I'm sure we could find something cheaper."
"If you'd prefer something less expensive, then by all means, look around and choose something," I said.
I liked her too much not to respect her opinion on this. She had to feel comfortable. If she didn't, then I may blow the one chance I had of getting her to look at me twice.
"What if I want to wear sneakers?" She raised an eyebrow at me.
"Then we need to go back and choose a longer dress," I said. "One that will cover your feet. Otherwise my mother will lose her mind. I don't think even my brother would get away with wearing sneakers to his own party."
"Have you ever been tempted to do something you know would piss her off?" Lexie asked.
"Tempted? Yes. I'm one hundred percent certain it wouldn't be worth the hassle. My mother has a long memory and a way of making sure your past deeds catch up to you. No matter how small a deal something is." I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"It sounds like we should both wear sneakers to this party," Lexie said. "Whose life are you living anyway, yours or hers?"
"Most definitely hers," I said dryly. "I'm just an accessory."
She looked at me in sympathy. "That's terrible. No one should feel like an accessory in their own life. You should be free to enjoy yourself."
I looked at her past my hand. "Who says I don't enjoy my life?"
She planted a fist on her hip. "When was the last time you did anything spontaneous? Something fun?"
"I asked you to accompany me to the party," I said. "That was spontaneous." I'd only been thinking about it for the last decade.
"But was it fun?" She cocked her head at me.
"What could be more fun than shopping for women's shoes?" I asked.
"Just about anything," she said. "What are you doing for the rest of the day?"
