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“You can hear that over this noise?”
“Sometimes it feels like I can heareverything. Like I got spidey-hearing now.”
Great. “Um. Nothing. This way.”
I helped him navigate the obstacle course to the dressing room area. Amber plucked several pairs of jeans on her way and jabbered on about specials and deals if you buy more than one pair. I didn’t hear much of it over my concentration to not step on a seam in the floor. Way too many seams.
What was up with this flooring? Talk about my worst nightmare!
“Throw in some shirts, too,” Damon said. “Like five.”
The girl beamed. “Okay. You take him back, and I’ll get your things ready.”
“What’s wrong with him?” someone whispered.
“Shush, honey,” the mom said to her kid and waved, giving me anI’m sorrylook.
I ushered Damon into a dressing room in silence. His body had tensed when that girl said that, so I knew he’d heard. “Guess I better get used to that, huh?”
“Here we go. Got some great choices.” Amber handed me a bunch of hangers.
“Thanks. We got it.” I stepped in and hung the clothing, then reached for Damon and guided him into the dressing room. “They’re on the left, hanging. I’ll be right outside the door.”
“Might need a little more help than that.”
Amber snickered as she hurried away, and heat fused my cheeks. “You’re fine.”
“Says the sighted woman. Get in here.” He reached for me.
I smoothed my shirt, but it didn’t quite get straight. Three more tries, then I could breathe.
“I bet you’re blushing right now.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” I said, working to catch my breath and not let on that I was totally and completely freaking out inside.
I could do this. He needed my help. What could happen in a small dressing room that’d be so catastrophic? Well, there were hooks in there. What if he tripped and hit his head on one? What if he got a headache suddenly and fell over? What if I wasn’t strong enough to catch him? No. I shouldn’t be in here. This wasn’t right.
“Which ones first?” He held up a pair of jeans by the legs, so they were totally upside down.
“Um.” I breathed deep, swiveling my ring as I pictured my beach.
“They’re both that bad? This Amber chick sucks. I—”
“They’re fine.” I reached for them. “Here. Give me those.”
Closing the door behind me, I turned the jeans right side up and unbuttoned them.
“Might need some help withmyjeans,” Damon said with a smirk.
“Funny.”
He shrugged and went to work on his buttons. “Worth a shot.”
I faced the door. “So, have you had many girlfriends?”
“Is that what we are? Boyfriend-girlfriend?” He laughed. “That sounds so sixth grade, doesn’t it?”
“Oh.” It sounded pretty cool to me, considering I’d never had one other than a few spin-the-bottle boyfriends in—actually—the sixth grade. Once again, the heat steamed my cheeks.
