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I gaped at him. “That’s just like the shawl Maisel Turnbottom wore to the gala! Do you think she made that Wonderland-esque raccoon from this very blanket?”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it past her.”
“We need this one.”
The cashier reappeared, snatched the blanket, and disappeared once more into the depths of the department store jungle.
“Is there anything you’d like for your apartment?” Gabriel asked. “My treat.”
Brunch felt like one thing, decorating my apartment felt like another. My stomach clenched, and a wave of discomfort carried through my limbs. Why would him buying me something feel like too big of a deal? I’d commandeered his jacketandlet him overpay me for taking a couple of pictures and posting on social.
Why did this feel like it would be crossing a line?
“Nah,” I said. “I’m good.”
I felt his gaze linger on me as we kept walking around. He wanted to say something, to probe me about this, and I didn’t want anything to do with that.
“Maybe that’s enough pillows for one day,” I said.
He stopped. “You seem particularly concerned that I might judge your apartment.”
“No I’m not. I don’t care what you think.” Defensive much? I knew I was being silly, even as I crossed my arms.
“I assure you that’s not my intention.”
“Okay.”
“You’re free to live however you like.”
“I know.”
“And I can spend my money how I like.”
“Of course you can.”
“So if I offer to buy you something, it’s meant as nothing more than me wanting to spend my money on you.”
“Got it.”
We headed toward the checkout.
As Gabriel paid, I said, “I’ll take the raccoon blanket.”
That little dimple formed at the corner of his mouth. “All right.”
And that was that. There was nothing else said about it, no big deal or anything. So, I figured he was probably right. I was being weird and assuming he was judging me, which he hadproved time and again wasn’t his jam. When he said something, I needed to take it at face value. I could do that.
We walked for a while after that, through the city. I couldn’t see Harold, but I knew he was around.
“How often do you do stuff like this?” I asked.
“I don’t date.”
“No, I know. We already had that conversation. I mean how often do you go out and buy things, or spend the evening walking around the city?”
“I don’t.”
I nodded. Of course he didn’t. Enjoying life fell into the inefficient-use-of-time category.
