“Trumbull’s about twenty-minutes away, why?”
“Does it have a menswear store? I need to buy a pair of dress shoes.”
He blushes. “If this is because you think you have to dress for dinner, then don’t?—”
“It’s not just that. I need a good pair of shoes anyway.”
He studies me in the mirror with skepticism.
“New Jersey is notoriously free of all clothing stores.”
I’m not sure my form of sarcasm is translating until he smiles.
“Sure, we can swing by. The mall could be fun.”
I beam inside. I can’t wait to tell my sister I went to a real-life American shopping mall.
When he pulls up into a half-full car park, I look up at the large white building and my heart sinks. “This is a Westfield.”
“Yeah, so?”
“They have these everywhere.”
“Um … sorry? What were you expecting?”
“Something more … American?”
He laughs, his dashboard beeping when he unbuckles his seatbelt. “I didn’t realize people actuallylikedAmerican things. Thought we were too loud and gaudy for you refined Europeans.”
I scoff. “One—you’ve obviously never been to an Irish pub, and two—you are definitely not loud and gaudy.”
There’s that shy smile again. I push down the butterflies having a vicious fight in my stomach.
“It may be boring, but it’s what we have to work with.”
I follow Ben across the car park, my disappointment disappearing as I watch him.
“I bet you don’t have Build-A-Bear workshops in Germany,” he says.
I frown. “I think we probably do in Berlin, and we have Steiff—that’s ten times better.”
He snorts. “Okay, you definitely don’t have Five Guys.”
I roll my eyes. “Everyone has Five Guys. Next you’ll be telling me we don’t have McDonald’s.”
“Wait! They have McDonald’s outside the US?”
I chuckle so heartily at his joke that I snort.
It’s nice seeing Ben so relaxed. Away from the stuffy confines of his family home and—no matter how much he says he loves it—an Ivy League college, he is a different person. Carefree, funny, incredibly hot.
He smiles at me, eyes sparkling, before shyly dropping his head and looking away again. I get a sudden impulse totake his hand but stop myself at the last second. This is his home-town, as huge as it may be. Someone might see him at—what may be—the only shopping mall in town. The last thing I want to do is out him to his family before he’s ready or make anything harder than it already is for him here.
There are some stores we don’t have in Germany, but they’re not very exciting. Ben grins as we pass the Build-A-Bear Workshop and I almost drag him in and buy him a stuffed bear.
The food court would smell amazing if I didn’t still think I was going to pop from that breakfast.
“Hey, bet you guys don’t have Dunkin’ Donuts,” Ben says.
