I stand up. “What is that?”
He looks at bag and shrugs. “This? Just a little something I thought you might like.”
He hands me the bag and inside is the dress. I want to hug him and tell him thank you and spin around with my amazing new dress.
“I can’t accept it,” I say and try to hand it back to him … reluctantly. I really want that dress, but I can’t take it.
He refuses to take it from my hands. “Please. Don’t act like you’re not used to men showering you with gifts.”
“I’m not. Even if they did—which they don’t, I wouldn’t accept them.”
“Why not? I imagine men would crawl over hot coals to give you anything you desire.”
I smile a little. I can’t help it. He has a way of making me feel beautiful without coming right out and saying the words. But the compliments make me feel uncomfortable too. I’m not used to them.
“I don’t want anyone thinking they own me. I take care of myself.”
“Has that happened to you before, someone acting like they own you because they gave you gifts?”
I sigh, feeling a bit reluctant to tell the story.
I decide to tell it anyway because there’s something about Kain that makes me trust him. “My first boyfriend tried to buy his way into my pants. His parents were wealthy, so he thought if he lavished me with gifts I would put out. When it never happened, he would throw the biggest fits and call me a tease and make a huge scene at school in front of our friends and classmates.”
Kain’s expression turns dark. “I would knock that guy on his ass if he were in front of me right now. That’s pathetic.” He steps up close to me and tilts my chin up so I’m looking him in the eyes. “If you were mine, I would never hold anything against you. I would never try to buy your affection or your body. I like you.” He kisses me softly, slowly, in front of a shopping center full of people. Someone whistles. I try to step away from him, but he pulls me closer to him. “You have every reason to fear the bullshit men like to dish out. It’s hard to trust. But I have no intentions of hurting you. I already got into your pants once, remember?” he says with a smirk. “I don’t need to buy my way in. I want you because you’re beautiful and genuine. And I want you to want me because I’m genuine too. I’m not here to play games. I don’t have time for that.”
I swallow hard, not sure what to say, so I nod.
“Good. That’s settled. Now let’s get moving.”
We start walking down the street.
“I’m starving,” he says. “I know the best place for fish and chips. You in?”
“I’m in.”
He takes my hand and weaves his fingers with mine and he leads the way.
7
Channa
By the next day my friends are finally feeling well enough to go out and explore London. I’m wearing my amazing dress that Kain bought me and it definitely doesn’t get past Lillian—whose yoga pants are probably stretched out to the point where she can no longer fit in them because of me.
“That is my favorite thing I’ve ever seen you wear,” she says. “How the hell could you afford it?” She touches the fabric. “It had to have been expensive.”
I shrug. I don’t want to lie to my friends, but they’ll have questions that I’m not ready to answer just yet. “It was on sale,” I say.
“Well I want one in every color.”
Luckily she gets distracted by a cute guy and drops of the subject before she decides she wants to go to the store where I got it.
We stop at a little shop for gelato after visiting practically every clothing, shoe, and jewelry store in London. We’ve done pretty much every touristy thing we can think of that doesn’t require a reservation. I’m licking the sweet raspberry gelato off my spoon, my mind a million miles away. Actually, it’s about forty miles away with Kain back at the house. We invited him to come with us, but he had to stay back and wash his laundry to get ready for work the next morning.
The thought of him consumes me. This dress is beautiful of course, but it feels special because he bought it for me. I’m doing everything in my power to keep from getting anything on it.
After his story about Johnathan, the man who raised him, I see him in a completely different light. He’s working to take care of him. I don’t know if anyone else I know would be so loyal. He’s definitely not like any guy I’ve ever met. Those are the kind of old fashioned morals and values you find in the fictional men I read about in the romance novels I love so much. They’re not real. Except this one is and everything about him has my head spinning. He’s so perfect in every way, too good to be true. If he’s for real, if there are no horrid secrets hiding in his closet, then I might never find another man like him, and that thought scares me.