He rubbed his thumbs across my cheekbones. “I’m going to work on myself, Nic. I’m gonna figure out how to get my confidence back, what path I want to take beyond getting health insurance. You make me feel like I’m that invincible quarterback again, like I can have dreams and enjoy my life without worrying about what people think.”
“You will. It’ll take time. But I’ll be here for it. Just show me you’re really in this.” I squeezed his hands.
“I will, Nic.”
We sealed his declaration with a kiss. Part of our dream was a happily-ever-after, and I knew we’d keep working at it.
While he got dressed, I finished the video.
So far, it’d been straightforward. The captions would read things like:
Armando and Hitch T-shirt: $25
For the last shot, I smiled at the camera and tossed the armfuls of stuff into a box.
I already had the caption planned:
Finding your self-worth? Priceless.
45
A Gift
During my next shift, I brought in some parting gifts. After all, I didn’t know if Andre would fire me or if I’d have two more weeks to ride out my discount. I strutted through the warehouse with three Fancee’s bags dangling from my arms.
My first delivery was for the guy who skimmed Zeezy’s. He was digging through the new inventory as always. He didn’t even notice me standing there.
I tapped the barrel with my boot. “Find anything good?”
He jolted upright, then eyed me. “Not yet.”
At least he was honest.
I gave him my most plastic smile and the smallest bag. “Thanks for lending me those shoes the other day. I know Zack already got them back to you already per your demands, but here’s my end of the bargain.”
He rummaged through the bag. “What’s this?”
“Spray, cleaner, and backup laces. I also threw in some odor protection.” I winked. “Only the best for Zack’s friends.”
“The best what?” Zack boomed from somewhere in the depths of stock shelving.
I smiled. How’d he hear any part of that? Was I loud too now, just like my man?
I propped my hand on my waist. “Protection.”
“What?” He laughed, strolling over with a dolly cart. “You’re such a brat.”
“It’s stuff for my shoes, man,” the Zeezy supplier said, wheeling away the inventory to rummage in private.
“I figured.” My boyfriend grinned and propped his arm on a shelf, the smell of stale warehouse dust replaced with a burst of Old Spice. “Anything in those bags for me?”
“Your present wouldn’t fit in a bag.” I laid a hand on his bicep for balance, then leaned over to peck his lips.
His eyes crinkled around the edges. “Thanks, babe. I love it.”
I arched my brow and grinned.Babe?
Somehow, it didn’t feel weird coming from him. It wasn’t used to butter me up or avoid saying the wrong name. Besides, he usually called me Nic.
