“No, beautiful. I've never read anything of hers, but I’ve watched all the movies based on her work. Does that count?”
“Boo,” she says, sticking out her tongue. “Everyone knows the books are always better, dragon boy.”
Hearing the familiar nickname has my heart jerking in my chest. She said it without hesitation, which was another sign of her healing.
I asked her once why she gave me the nickname. She said that because I was always so fierce in protecting her. In making sure nothing could touch her. She said I guard her as ferociously as a dragon does his treasure. Just remembering that sends shame coursing through me because I let her down. I failed her. I was no longer her dragon because a dragon would have never willingly given up their treasure.
To know that she’s feeling secure enough to call me that again, given her reason for blessing me with the name in the first place, sends so much hope through me that I stagger under the weight of it.
Charlie steps away and moves to my side as we walk through the mall.
The loud chatter of shoppers, music playing overhead, and the clang of businesses fill the air. Sweet and savory scents from the food court drift over, making Charlie's stomach rumble.
I chuckle and drape my arm over her shoulder as we head for the food court. I pick at fries, content to watch Charlie devour her meal. Afterward, I slip my arm around her waist as we wander the mall, pausing to browse or buy whatever we like. When Charlie admires something and leaves it, I quietly double back later and sneak it into our bags, loving the secret joy of surprising her.
Charlie pulls us to a stop in front of a bookstore. “Can we stop here?”
“Depends,” I answer, reaching out to grab the bags from her hands.
“On?” Her eyes sparkle with excitement.
“If you’ll make a deal with me.”
She tilts her head to regard me. “What kind?”
“I give you two minutes, and you get as many books as you can. When the timer goes off, that’s it. I’ll buy you all the books you end with.”
“Are you for real?” she breathes.
“Think you can get a few books?”
“A few? Oh, baby. Don’t make a deal like this with a bookworm unless you’re prepared to spend a few hundred.” She turns on her heel and marches into the store. “Basket or cart?”
I shrug. “Your choice. I’ll even be nice and push or carry it.”
Charlie smirks and grabs the cart. “I’m feeling lucky.”
Sliding my phone from my pocket, I pull up the timer. “You ready?”
Eagerness and determination light up her face as she grips the cart handle, her eyes darting across the shelves like a hunter zeroing in on her prey.
“Ready.”
I step up to her back, leaning down until my mouth brushes her ear. “Go.”
Charlie shivers, then bolts with a delighted squeal, making me laugh out loud. I chase after her with the cart as she sweeps books from the shelves in wild, gleeful armfuls.
I check in with her every thirty seconds, taking delight in the way she lets out this half-laugh, half-squeal sound each time.
It’s impossibly cute, and I silently vow to do whatever it takes to keep her this happy. This is the version of her the world deserves to see.
“Five…four…”
She runs through the store as I count down, swiping books from shelves that catch her eye. Employees and other shoppers watch us with soft little smiles, Charlie’s happiness pulling them in.
“Three…two…one.”
She tosses one more book in at the last second, then she leans against the cart with harsh breaths.
