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"I don't know."
I chuckled, glancing down at her. "Come on." I nudged her with my elbow. "You have to have some ideas in that brilliant mind of yours." She blushed, as I'd intended, and ran her bottom lip through her teeth.
"Maybe some lights?" She sounded so unsure of herself, like she wasn't used to giving her opinion.
"Perfect." I guided her toward the aisle with string lights, pulling and tugging her arm playfully, and she let out the softest, sweetest giggle that made my chest swell. "Pick your favorite."
"But it's your classroom," she countered. "Shouldn't it be your favorite?" I squeezed her hand as I shook my head.
"Pick your favorite," I repeated. She turned toward the shelves, taking in all the options. There were different sets of multi-colored and plain white lights, all in different styles. I knew she was looking more at price tags than she was aesthetic, and that wouldn't do. I wanted her to pick what she genuinely liked. "Your favorite, Winnie. Not the cheapest."
She nibbled on her lip, still looking unsure, but finally, her eyes landed on a set of fairy lights with tiny bulbs that made her perk up.
"These are pretty," she murmured, tracing her finger along the box. "What do you think?"
She turned those big eyes up to me, and my breath caught in my lungs. "Perfect," I breathed, her gaze holding me captive. "Absolutely perfect."
I didn't care about the lights—I'd barely given them a second glance. It was her that was perfect. That was beyond perfect. There weren't enough words in any language to describe her, so perfect would have to do. But it didn't carry enough weight. It didn't fully encompass her.
I tossed a couple boxes of lights in the cart, then headed toward the rest of the home goods. As we shopped, she loosened up, becoming more animated and excited to find things for the room. Blankets, candles, and plants all made their way into the cart as I pushed it after her. I'd never seen her come alive like this.
Finally, she stopped and scanned the cart. "Is this too much?" She bit on her knuckle, worry seeping into her face.
"No," I smiled. "Have you thought about your gift?"
"You can't buy me a gift." I let out a long breath as I rested my forearms on the cart. "Profe—Emmett. It's too much." She hesitated before taking a deep breath. "It would be inappropriate."
Her words were like ice, and I inhaled sharply. "Right." Roughly, I cleared my throat. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."
"No," she rushed out, jolting forward. She reached for me, but I didn't let her touch me. "It's just...the other day when I was crying, and then today—the hand holding? Someone might see and get the wrong idea, you know?"
I smiled tightly. "I understand," I said. "It was my mistake."
Her eyes flicked between mine, but I didn't reach for her. I didn't try to smooth anything over. She was rejecting me—she thought she was, at least. She'd never get away from me, but I could give her this little bit of faux freedom if it made her feel better. But one day soon, we both knew she'd be tied to my bed for the weekend.
"Let's check out." Her shoulders fell at my words, and she dropped her head forward. She kept her distance from me as we wandered back through the store, her arms wrapped around herself. She tried to put this imaginary wall between us, so I was giving her exactly what she wanted.
The silence was heavy between us as we checked out and made our way outside. My annoyance stewed with each step. I thought she'd be more willing to bend—she had been up until that point. She’d been willing to touch me, and let me touch her. But I suppose she was having second thoughts now.
Pulling the key from my pocket, I unlocked the car. "Get in. I'll put the bags in the trunk."
She said nothing as she pulled the door open and slunk inside.
Why would she say it was inappropriate? Did she know about my past? That thought didn't sit right with me. Having her in my life, manipulating her into staying with me forever, would only work if she didn't know about my past.
After slamming the trunk lid shut, I made my way to the driver's side. I hesitated, resting one hand on the roof of the car as I breathed deeply.
Did she know the truth?
I climbed in and started the engine. Winnie stared straight ahead, her hands twisting in her lap.
I waited for her to say something, anything, about how she was feeling, what she was thinking. But nothing. With a deep breath, I drove from the parking lot.
My past was still a secret. The Dean obviously didn't want that getting spread around campus, so I knew he'd do what he could to not say a word about it. But the internet didn't let things die. I couldn't control what was on there, what she might've found.
Maybe I should tell her my story before she found anything. I could tell her everything written about me were lies, and what I was telling her was the truth. That was an idea...but if she didn't know about it, I'd be opening up to her scrutiny and potentially losing her. So, perhaps that wasn't such a good plan.
"Where should I take you?" I asked, my hand tight on the steering wheel. She was quiet for a moment, and I almost thought she wouldn't say anything.
