Page 90 of Loverboy

He finished talking, slowing to a complete stop. Our surroundings rushed back in, overwhelmingly loud. People brushed past us, the lights were too bright, and all I could think about was how much I wanted him to lecture me like that while bending me over at the same time.

Fuck.

It had no business being so attractive.

“Neat,” I muttered, too embarrassed to admit I hadn’t been listening.

“Were you even listening?” He didn’t seem upset. If anything, he looked amused.

“Yeah,” I hesitated, too hot in my own skin. “Listening to you being a fucking nerd.”

Jasper tucked the candle into the gift bag it came with and leaned in closer, and my stomach flipped with nerves. I tilted away, the awareness of eyes burning between my shoulder blades.

“Let’s look at shoes,” I suggested hastily.

“Okay.”

My mind was already racing, latching onto the next thing as I bee-lined for a shoe store across the hall. The bright lights hummed, and the faint smell of rubber and leather made my nose wrinkle.

“What about these?” I held up a pair of Converse. “I like the black.”

“Those are navy.” Jasper side-eyed me from the spot he’d settled into, where he leaned back against the shelves.

“What? They’re black.” I frowned and took a closer look at them.

“Nope,” he said confidently, plucking one out of my hands. “Navy.”

“Do your glasses make you colourblind?”

“Says the one who hasn’t been for an eye exam since they were seventeen.”

“Rude.” I snatched the shoe out of his hand, holding it to my chest like I was clutching my pearls.

He pushed off the shelves and crowded my space, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. My heart skipped a beat. I wasn’t sure I was ready. I wanted him to kiss me, to know for certain that we weren’t some dirty secret. He hovered so close, all I could do was stare up at him, my muscles tight with anticipation.

“Hey,” he called past me. “Are these black or navy?”

That motherfucker.

I spun around, boots squeaking against the vinyl floor. Two girls stood at the end of the aisle, wide-eyed, probably trying to figure out which one of them he was talking to.

“They look black to me,” the brunette answered.

Jasper grinned and rested a hand on my shoulder. “Amazing.”

The situation quickly turned into a spectacle, Jasper and I full-on bickering over the colour of a pair of shoes and elbowing each other in the ribs with every verbal jab. It was enough to draw the attention of a sales associate, who tiptoed her way over.

“Does your boyfriend need any help?” the saleswoman asked.

The blood drained from my face, and I took a few steps away from Jasper. The knee-jerk reaction earned me a strange look from him. Annoyance, or disappointment, maybe? He quickly schooled it into an award-winning smile as he looked at the employee.

“Yes, he does.” He pointed at the shoes. “He thinks these are black. They’re navy, right?”

“Yes, those high-tops are navy,” she confirmed, thoroughly amused.

Jasper’s head swivelled back in my direction, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Would you look at that, babe?”

My soul left my body, presumably, along with my dignity. The girls we’d been speaking to were giggling amongst themselves as I put the shoes back on the shelf, my stomach doing gymnastics over the casual term of endearment.