Page 36 of Strings Attached


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He was…picky, to say the least. He looked through each rack a hundred times, grabbing slacks, taking them down, and putting them back. The prices here couldn’t be beat, and I think he knew that.

“I lost Ross here once.”

He looked at me and gave me a shy smile. “Really? You used to shop here?”

“Yep. Most of Ross’s clothes came from here when he was young. Mine too. He was three when I lost him. The kid grew like a weed and needed clothes. I was exhausted from work and school, broke, you name it. They had a sale table with kids clothes. The deals were incredible, and I got distracted calculating how much I could afford. He was walking by then, of course, and hated the cart, and…he was just gone. All these horrible scenarios ran through my mind. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I was frantically running around the store, looking for him. All I could think was…I can’t do this. I’m not good enough. What kind of father loses their son?”

“The human kind, Harrison. You’re not perfect. No one is. You were there for Ross, always. That’s what matters.”

I nodded. “Logically, I know that, but in the moment…well, in the many, many moments I thought that over the years, I couldn’t see it. Anyway, I found him. He’d gone to the toy section and gotten a dump truck, then had hidden in the middle of one of the circular clothes racks. After I nearly squeezed him to death, so thankful I’d found him, I realized he was hiding because he knew I wouldn’t get him that toy and he wanted it so badly. He was too young to understand why I couldn’t.”

I rubbed a hand over my chest, the pain of that acknowledgment still raw and intense. “So…I bought it along with the clothes and then only ate Top Ramen instead of actual meals for the next few days to make up for it. He ate better.” I grinned, but it felt forced.

Zander was watching me, his head cocked, an expression in his eyes I couldn’t quite read.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to get depressing all of a sudden. I just haven’t been here in a long time. I can’t help but remember that day when I’m here.”

Zander took a few steps to close the distance between us, then pressed a soft kiss to my lips before pulling away again. It was the first time he’d kissed me when we weren’t fucking, about to fuck, or having just finished.

“Thank you for sharing that with me.” He held up a pair of pants. “What do you think of these?”

“I think your ass would look great in them.”

“My ass looks great in everything.” He bit into his bottom lip, and damned if I didn’t want to do it for him.

“True.”

“I’m gonna try them on.”

I nodded and waited as he did. He settled on two pairs of slacks and a package of three button-up, collared shirts—white, black, and blue.

He put the bags in the truck, and then we headed over to the thrift store. We were only inside for about thirty seconds before he grabbed my wrist and tugged me with him. “Oh my God, Harrison. Look at this!” There was a spinning stand filled with bow ties. “What! These say the day of the week! Aren’t these the cutest things you’ve ever seen?”

An unexpected bubble of happiness swelled inside me. “I didn’t know you liked bow ties.”

“I didn’t know I liked bow ties either, but apparently I do. Are they cheesy? I mean, I’m teaching middle school. Are the kids going to think I’m a dork and the teachers that I’m a kid?”

“I think…people would have to be crazy to look at you and see anything other than someone full of passion, drive, and heart. Plus, you’re sexy as fuck, so that helps.”

“The last one totally isn’t the look I’m going for while teaching, but you just earned yourself a blowjob regardless. I’m easy.”

I laughed. “Get the bow ties.”

“You do realize middle schoolers can be brutal, right? And adults are even worse. Why is that, by the way? We’re so judgy.”

“Not us. Most other people get their judgmental kinks in adulthood, but we’re too good for that shit.” I plucked the package of bow ties off the rack. “Get them. Wear them. If you aren’t sure, then you don’t have to wear them again. I’m slightly offended that you get more excited by these than…” An older woman walked by us. “Well…you know.”

“No, I don’t know. Care to tell me?”

“Brat,” I teased, but he took the package from my hand and didn’t put them back, so I considered that a win.

* * *

Zander fell almost as in love with a bookcase as he did the bow ties. Like most things he seemed to gravitate toward, it was older, not modern at all, made with heavy, dark wood. I’d said it before, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever met anyone as passionate as he was. When he cared about something, enjoyed it, liked it, whatever the situation, his happiness radiated off him and he let himself go in those moments, let those feelings he kept bottled up so much of the time sneak out. I got to stand back and feel the heat of it, like the sun on my skin after a cool day.

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