Her laugh is like fucking sunshine, I swear. "No bet. You'd win."
I close her door and jog around to the driver's side, sliding behind the wheel with a grin. "Smart witch."
The drive to the mall is easy. It's not very far from campus, so it'll be a good first step to build her confidence and I'm more than capable of tearing apart anyone suicidal enough to try to approach her. It's only been a few days, but already, I can't imagine not feeling her presence in the back of my mind.
Sometimes I catch myself reaching for the bond just to feel her there, like a kid checking his pocket to make sure his favorite toy is still safe. It's fucking addictive, this connection. And it's only getting stronger every day.
"What are you smiling about?" she asks as I pull into the parking lot.
"Just thinking about how hot you're gonna look in all the clothes we're about to buy you," I lie, because saying 'I'm fucking obsessed with the magical soul bond between us' feels a little heavy for a shopping trip.
"Uh-huh." She clearly doesn't believe me, but she's smiling too. "Just remember, I have veto power."
"Obviously. I'm not a complete animal." I pause. "Well, not all the time, anyway."
The mall isn't too crowded, which is perfect. Regina still gets tense in big crowds. A leftover from her time with Kyle, I think, when she was constantly being watched and judged.
She put her glamour back on at some point while I was distracted by the road, but I decide not to push her on it since getting her off campus is practically a miracle on its own. I feelher relaxing as we make our way through the relatively empty corridors and she realizes no one's staring at her.
If they did, I'd put 'em through a wall anyway.
"Where to first?" she asks, looking around at the storefronts.
"Anywhere that isn't boring," I declare, steering her toward a shop with mannequins dressed in clothes that look like they'd actually have some color. "No more beige. You're not a fucking oatmeal cookie."
She laughs again, and damn, I could get high on that sound. "I like neutrals. They're practical."
"Practical is for tax returns and kitchen appliances. Clothes should be fun." I tug her into the store, immediately gravitating toward a rack of dresses in jewel tones. "Like this. This is the opposite of boring."
I hold up a purple dress with a neckline that would show off her collarbones and the mating marks we left on her neck. The color would make her eyes pop, and the cut would hug every curve. Plus, the whole world would be able to see she's ours.
Win-win-win.
"That's..." she starts, then stops, her fingers reaching out to touch the fabric almost reverently.
"Gorgeous?" I supply. "Perfect? Exactly what you should be wearing instead of those faded jeans?"
"I was going to say 'expensive,'" she counters, but she's still touching the dress like she's afraid it might disappear.
"Try it on," I urge, already looking for her size. "Just try it. If you hate it, we'll find something else."
She hesitates, but I can feel her wavering. "Fine. But just to try."
"That's my girl," I grin, finding her size and handing it to her. "Dressing rooms are back there. I'll keep looking."
While she heads to the dressing room, I pull out my phone and open our group chat.
KNOTHEAD
Operation Wardrobe Upgrade is a go. Heading into first dressing room now.
TOP DAWG
What the fuck, Sean? You were supposed to wait until we all had a free afternoon.
NERD
Some of us have practice, asshole.
