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“I hate you, and you’re being massively unhelpful.”
She taps her toes against the industrial carpet and looks around the store. “He has a phone, listens to his own music, and gift cards are out,” she mumbles, cracking her knuckles and readjusting the purse at her shoulder. Her hair is down today, and she must have done something to put new waves in it. They make her look like a model or actress. Should I switch up my hair for Wilder?
Holy shit, am I really thinking of changing my appearance for a man? I’ve officially gone crackers, and I need to dial this shit back.
“You say he doesn’t like books, right?” Melissa asks, still trying to solve my Wilder gift problem.
“Correct. It’d be so much easier if he liked them.”
“Do you have anything in common at all?”
I look at the floor and frown, my hands at my hips as I balance the wine box in my hands. One thing about my mother is that wine is always the gift answer. At least it was easy for me to pick out someone’s present. “Not a thing, but that doesn’t matter. I need to get in his head and figure out what he would like. Not me.”
She nods. “You’re wise, Savannah Smart.”
I look around the store and out the glass windows at the front of the shop. Clothes are a no. He wears his work stuff and spends the rest of his time at home in gray sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt. I’m not messing with the gray sweatpants. Lord, I’d never be able to size them the way he does, and I don’t want to text him to ask what size he wears. If I ask him his size, he’ll know what he’s getting, and I want it to be a surprise. A sweatshirt would be easier, but that’s still impersonal.
My eyes scroll past the shops across the mall hallway and stop at the engraving store. “Do you think I should get him something engravable?”
“What are you going to get on it? Love? If you put the word love on it, I’ll piss myself, Savannah.”
I grimace. I can’t put that word on it. She’s right. I crack my knuckles and walk toward the door. “Come with me. I’ll just take a look over there.”
“I guess we’re leaving the electronics store, also known as guy present heaven.”
“It’s too overwhelming.”
I step out of the store, Melissa on my heels. I don’t look back at her, but I feel her presence and hear her apologize to the shop worker that we were just browsing and to have a good holiday. The smell of the nearby pretzel stand fills my nose, and Melissa grabs my shoulder, muttering about food.
I shake her off and cross the mall hallway in a handful of steps with long strides. We can get pretzels and expensive smoothies later.
I enter the engravable store with a purposeful walk and nod to the shop keeper. A handful of women are in the store, probably getting graduation gifts or gifts for their husbands of twenty years. Why did I think this was a good idea?
I stand in the shop and look at the options. Pictures about how much you love someone. Necklaces or watches that can be engraved on the back. All are too expensive.
“What about a flask?” Melissa asks behind me.
I turn to the shelf she indicates. This could work. Sure, I don’t see him drink a lot of hard liquor. He’s more of a beer guy, but it’s a present, and it’s as close to personalized and special as I’m going to get. I pick up a silver flask and walk to the register. “Thank fuck we got that out of the way,” Melissa mumbles.
“It’s easier for you to shop for your fiancé. You know him better.”
She holds her hands up. “Not judging. I just think you could have driven yourself crazy.”
I’m not paying attention. My eye catches a small item on the shelf near the cash register, and I step closer to it, setting down the forgotten flask.
“Holy fuck balls, this is perfect,” I mutter, picking up the object and meeting the shop keeper’s eyes. “I’ll take this.”
December 18 - Wilder
Savannah’s work didn’t spare any expense for the holiday party. Gus and I usually go to dive bars or bars that have sports on large TVs every five feet and make good pot roast sandwiches. This bar isn’t a club, but it’s more upscale than my usual haunt. Floor to ceiling windows allow light into the place while blue track lighting reflects off the polished floor. Comfortable couches are scattered throughout the room, giving the place a coffee house feel as waitresses in short skirts bring fresh drinks in a timely manner. Dark-stained and buffed tables line the walls with booths at the back of the bar, the wood so nice that I wouldn’t dare not use a coaster.
“Having fun?” Savannah asks, wrapping her arms around my waist from behind. “Thanks again for coming.”
“Wouldn’t miss it. It’s what cuffs do. I hope I’m making you proud, at least.”
She turns me around to face her and runs her eyes up and down the length of my body. My dick twitches in my pants under her gaze, and she smiles at my dark, well-fitting jeans and green sweater that fits my biceps and pectorals like a glove.
I may look good, but she looks better. Her hair is down today, a change from her normal ponytail or messy bun she wears around the apartment, and I realize that I haven’t seen her dressed up a lot since we met and had our first date.
