29

Kassie

Not Supposed To Be Here

Something was up with Ryan. Which usually wouldn't be my problem, but he couldn't walk his toned, clenched glutes fast enough in the mall to outpace any of his fans.

"Ryan!" I hissed, trying to get his attention again.

We'd been spotted and targeted again . Two teenagers lit up the moment they saw us and sprinted over, ducking and dodging to cross our path.

"Dude, we've got to duck into a shoe store. They're going to corner us. Get your ass moving! "

The football player glanced down. "What?"

"Oh hell's bells, here they are—"

"Hey! Hello!" The first teenager hurried so fast she almost flew into a clothing rack.

That wasn't new. We'd already dealt with a mom and little kid who slid through the food court on the way to us, a group of high school boys who trailed behind us in the parking lot, and the prepubescent boy who smacked into a column when he spotted Ryan. I'd been assured it was my new normal.

Yippee.

The teenage girl squealed with delight. "No, don't tell me. You're not—"

How many people had approached us?

It was actually pretty impressive, considering we'd only spent ten minutes in the mall. Cleo said I'd get used to it, but she'd also said the graphic design department would get used to me, and I'd seen how well that turned out.

I tried to smile and ended up with the pained expression of someone who'd backed into a minivan. "Yep. Probably."

"You're Ryan Cross, right?" The second teenager gushed at him. "Look at those arms . Can I touch them? Please tell me that's you."

My smile tightened. "He's not a zoo animal."

"And you're the girl from the—!"

"From the photo, yes. That's my name, Girl-From-The-Photo. All hyphenated."

Ryan looked between me and the girls. It was like someone flipped on the switch. "She's my girlfriend, actually, and we're shopping. We'd appreciate some privacy. Thank you for the support. It means a lot."

What?

I didn't have time to process anything before Ryan placed his hand on my back. All my lower muscles seized up as he guided me down the hallway, past the pretzel stand, past the barely lit skate shop, past the quirky knickknack store that smelled like mothballs.

We stopped at the last corner and I could finally ask my question. "What was that?"

Ryan remained silent.

"Shouldn't you be nicer to teenagers?" I pressed. "Isn't that one of your main demographics?"

An older guy down the hallway dropped his slushie when he spotted Ryan and grabbed two of his friends beside him.

I grimaced. "Well, that, and forty-year-old dads."

Again, Ryan didn't respond.

I tried something brand new. "Want to know what my favorite part about the design department is?"

With a grunt, he indicated he was listening, but his eyes scanned above my head.

"We catch lizards outside. It's a lot easier than you think."

He nodded.

"If you swallow them whole, it helps with the drawing process."

"I bet."

Ryan rubbed his jaw and took a sharp right down the hallway. Damn his long legs and quick stride. It was hard to keep up without jogging after him.

His hand wrapped around a gold handle and the door swung open.

"Ryan?" I pushed. "What's up with you?"

"What?"

"That's your fiftieth ‘what.' Your quota's exceeded." I walked in front to put a hand out to stop him. "What're you, sick or something?"

His face hardened. "I'm not sick."

"Then what's going on?"

"What's going on is that we've been given a direct order to purchase a dress. Let's focus here."

"Pssh, you focus," I muttered under my breath. "Focus on getting your head out of your ass."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Sure."

"Didn't say anything. Now you're hearing things." I had something else to add, something about him purposely making up things about me when I finally realized what we'd walked into.

It wasn't one of the off-rack clothing shops I'd been picking through all my life. The place wasn't even one of the dimly lit stores with week-old lemon water. I did a full one-eighty, staring in surprise. My sneakers squeaked against the marble flooring. This was one of those real expensive boutiques, with soft music playing overhead and a distinct scent of peppermint.

I am not supposed to be here.

"Ryan," I called after him, but he didn't answer. " Ryan ."

He was too busy chatting with a young woman, dressed in a sharp green suit that had to have cost more than my tuition.

Under no circumstances was a trip to this store necessary. I was the only one who understood that. No matter how hard I tried to wave Ryan over, nothing worked. There had to be a limit on the black card and I didn't want to call Cleo to check.

" Ryan ."

The attendant smiled at me. "Lovely to meet you too! What're you looking to fall in love with today?"

"Oh, we're not falling in love today." I gestured towards the door. "We were on our way to get a pretzel and got lost. Do you have a map? A compass?"

Ryan didn't get the memo. He muttered to the attendant in a low voice and I stopped by the glass counter, with my arms crossed over my chest, ready to argue. If he thought we were going to spend more than three minutes in the store, he was—

My eyes flickered down to the glass and the thoughts in my head zipped out.

Sitting on the pillows in locked boxes were the most gorgeous gold bracelets in the world. I gazed down at them, bewitched, mesmerized, hypnotized. God, I didn't even know which one was my favorite. Carefully, I slipped out my phone from my back pocket. One picture and one of my roommates could replicate them with a quick trip to the fabric store and some hot glue.

"Ma'am?" The attendant reeled me back into the conversation in an instant. "Please. No photos."

"No photos?" I repeated.

Ryan stepped closer to me. "My girlfriend wants to see these."

"What?" I quickly shook my head. "No, he's kidding." I lowered my voice to a whisper. "Dude, we can't even breathe on those. Look at the price tags."

"We'd like to see those out of the case," Ryan confirmed.

"He's losing his marbles. He didn't mean to say that."

The attendant blinked at us. "So…do we want the bracelets out or…?"

I said a firm no at the exact same time that Ryan insisted on them.

"I will walk right out of here, I swear to god," I warned him.

"Fine." Ryan conceded but thumbed towards the curtains behind him. "No bracelets. But we still have room three."

Is he serious?

"Ryan…"

" Kassie . This is where Cleo wants us to go."

That was all well and good, but I couldn't fight the awful feeling resting somewhere above my kidneys.

I don't belong here.

But…if I could get my huge quarterback to pull a little distraction so I could snap some photos of the bracelets. I snuck a look at Ryan and made my way into the fitting room. Ryan took a seat in the only chair.

"I need your help," I whispered out of the side of my mouth. "Ryan, you need to make a distraction so I can go take pictures."

He stretched out. "You like those bracelets."

"Yes, which is why I'm going to cash in on having creative roommates. It's not like they have studying and homework and mental health to prioritize. You just fixed up the apartment, they'll come through now."

"I could just buy them."

"No."

He sighed. "Art girl, that'd be a lot easier."

"You're not listening to me." I held up my phone. "What I need is a distraction . Use your technophobia for the greater good. Ask her how to open a tab."

"I don't know what a tab is."

" Exactly . Just keep asking questions. What's a tab? What's a phone? What's electricity? She'll never suspect a—"

The curtain brushed open, and the saleswoman poked her head in, with six black dresses on her arm, all gorgeous and stunning.

"Never—uh—" I stammered, trying to collect myself. "See, at the training center, they'll never…never…"

Ryan chuckled behind me—what a help he was—and the saleswoman bowed.

She bowed . We were in a store where the salespeople casually bowed .