He’ll what?
My eyes flutter shut, feeling the intense sting of tears rushing through.
No one has ever done this for me. Some may think,“Well, Layla, it’s just shopping.”
Well, it’s never been as simple as just someone taking me somewhere because they want to. It’s always Brian making me feel foolish for even asking, adding a sigh or an eye roll to make me feel small.
Brian would’ve laughed, then told me to figure it out on my own. My mom would’ve sighed and reminded me how scatterbrained I’ve always been.
But Reed… He kneels here, offering to take me like it’s the most natural thing in the world to drop everything and fix something that’s upsetting me.
A tear slips free before I can stop it, and I let out a shaky laugh, trying to play it off.
“You don’t have to?—”
“I want to,” he says, pulling back to make eye contact, not giving me a chance to argue.
He reaches out, his thumb brushing beneath my eye, wiping away a tear.
I blink at him, watching his movements. Still in shock and awe, he’s on his knees for me.
He shifts a little closer as his hand rests lightly against my knee while the other tucks that same piece of hair back behind my ear again.
“I want to take you to a boutique,” he continues softly as his thumb traces an absent little circle against my knee, “or wherever the hell you want to go.”
My chest constricts, my heart rate picking up rapidly.
“I want to carry your bags,” he says, glancing at my backpack before looking back up at me, the corner of his mouth lifting just a little. “Watch you try on clothes.”
My lip trembles, I can’t fucking help it.
“No one’s ever…” I start, having to stop because my voice stutters. “No one’s ever just… taken care of me like that. Without making me feel insignificant first.”
His eyes soften even more, if that’s possible, as he leans forward pressing his forehead to mine.
“You don’t ever have to feel small with me,” he whispers, lifting his hand to cup my face, gently stroking his thumb across my cheek. “Not once. Not ever. You’re allowed to forget things. You’re allowed to be messy. You’re allowed to need something and… ask. Or don’t even ask. I’ll see it, and I’ll give it to you.”
Another tear trickles down my cheeks as I silently laugh through them.
“Okay,” I whisper, covering my hand with his.
He gives me a genuine smile, causing his eyes to crinkle at the corners.
“Okay.”
He stands, offering me his hand.
I look up at him before I take his hand as his fingers weave through mine.
Pulling me up gently, he presses a soft peck on my lips before retreating to the dresser.
He grabs the iced coffee from the dresser, the one he made me just because, and presses it into my palm.
“First things first,” he says, his thumb brushing my knuckles. “Caffeine, clothes, then dinner.
A laugh escapes me as I get on my tippy toes and give him another gentle peck on the lips.
“Thank you,” I whisper against his lips.
