My grin widened. “Yes.”
“There’s no way I’m going to fit in that,” he said.
I read the back of the packaging. “It has elastic. It’s stretchy.”
“I’m not going to fit,” he repeated.
“We can always try.” I paused. “Do you not want to?”
“Of course I don’t want to, who wants to dress up like a maid?”
“I think it’s pretty.”
Taylor inhaled with his whole body.
“But if you don’t want to—”
“Fine, buy it,” he interrupted, taking it from my hands. “But just know you’re wasting money because I won’t be able to fit in it.”
He started marching towards the counter, but I grabbed his wrist and dragged him down another aisle.
“I thought that was everything,” he said.
“We boughtonething,” I reminded him. We passed vibrators and air-suction toys, rows and rows of dildos (it might’ve been my imagination, but Taylor’s scowl appeared to deepen) and found ourselves in front of a selection of ropes, restraints and handcuffs.
“Are you kidding me.”
I picked up a box of black fluffy handcuffs. “These seem comfortable. They’re affordable too.” I read the back. “They don’t lock, just click.”
“Good. Knowing you, you’d probably lose the key.”
“I would not.”
After shoving the handcuffs into his hands, I decided to put him out of his misery and headed to the counter — also because a couple had just entered, young enough that odds are, they probably went to Halverton uni too.
I paid for the items and was grateful the lady bagged them in a unlabelled brown paper bag. By the time we left, it was already one thirty, and my stomach was growling.
“Hungry?” I asked Taylor.
We wandered up and down a main street twice, Taylor looking increasingly irritated every time I stopped to check a restaurant’s Google reviews.
“I thought you had this day planned out.”
“I didn’t think it’d be this hard to find somewhere to eat.”
“Just choose one.”
“I want it to be good,” I said, exiting out of a review that stated the food tasted undercooked. “What do you want?”
“I don’t care. You’re the boss.”
Maybe I was, but I wanted Taylor to enjoy himself. In the end, I led him to a food court because there would be lots of options. I ordered a chicken burger meal and Taylor got a packet of salmon nigiri, a few Vietnamese rice paper rolls, and a large slice of meatlovers pizza.
“What’s the plan after this?” Taylor asked as he picked up his chopsticks.
I felt like a caveman, in comparison, chomping on my burger and getting sauce on my fingers.
“I’m not gonna lie,” I began, “I didn’t think that far ahead.”
