“I won’t settle. I promise,” I whispered. “Can I tell you something?”
“Yeah.”
“I think you’re pretty fucking amazing.” When he started to look away, I grabbed his chin and brought his face closer to mine. “I mean it. I want…”
“What?”
I want to keep you. I want you to be mine. I want you to stay.
A firestorm of need bubbled inside me. But it wasn’t the sexual kind I knew how to handle. It was new. And I didn’t know how to say what I was feeling without scaring us both. So I took the coward’s way out.
“Want to go to the mall?”
Braden squinted so hard his forehead creased like an old man’s. “The mall? Are you okay?”
“Yep. I need a shirt for that stupid dinner next week. Get your ass up, baby. Let’s go shopping.”
Okay, so I probably needed to work on my finesse, but my powers of persuasion were on point. After I blew Braden in the shower and promised to fuck him when we got home, he agreed to accompany me…as long as we didn’t go to the mall.
“I fucking hate the mall.”
“Why? It’s just a bunch of shops arranged in one spot for your convenience,” I singsonged as I searched for a place to park on 2nd Street.
“Maybe, but it’s hell. Every time I set foot in a mall, I get terrible flashbacks to my asthmatic days when I was a kid before we found out that I was allergic to perfume. I was okay when we initially walked through that section, but five minutes later, I’d be gasping for air. And if you’re stuck in an enclosed mall, you’re outta luck.”
“Oh, that had to suck.”
“It did. I outgrew that allergy, but I still hate the mall.” He gestured toward the white pickup truck pulling out of a space in front of a home goods boutique. “There’s a spot.”
“Great. That’s my mom’s store. We have to stop in and say hi. If she sees my car out here, I’ll never hear the end of it. Don’t worry. We’ll make it quick,” I said as I turned off the engine and unfastened my seat belt.
Braden chuckled. “I don’t mind. Your mom is cool.”
“I don’t know about that, but she’s mine, so…let’s get it over with.”
I led him into BGoods, a trendy home decor boutique owned by Brandon Good, a fabulous gay man who loved beautiful things and eccentric people. That had to be why he hired my wackadoodle mom to manage his Long Beach store. He usually ran his WeHo branch and left Mom to handle things here, but he occasionally showed up with his firefighter husband, Jake, and their yellow Lab, Lucy. I doubted he’d come to Long Beach on a Saturday afternoon, but I hoped so. Bran was funny as hell, and Lucy provided a great distraction from my mom’s manic brand of parenting.
“Oh, look who the eff is here!” My mother exclaimed when I pushed the door open.
The entire store turned to stare at Braden and me as I made my way to the register to greet her with a hug.
“Hey, Mom.”
She smooshed me in an enthusiastic embrace, then pushed me back and gave me a thorough once-over. I did the same. She looked great. Her long hair was pulled into a stylish bun, and her simple black dress was tasteful. I had to admit she thrived here. I didn’t know if Bran should get all the credit, but my mom worked harder than she ever had to stay clean and sober and present. And she didn’t mind softening her edges for a few hours at a time for the upscale clientele. She even traded low-cut blouses for fashionable attire and curbed her tendency to toss f-bombs every other sentence. Of course, all bets were off when she was done for the day.
“Is it Mother’s Day, or did you come lookin’ for money? Get me my purse. You can have anything you want. You too, cutie.” Mom held her arms out to Braden and squeezed the life out of him, then flashed a wide grin at both of us. “What are you up to? Tell me everything and make it spicy. I’ve been selling the hell out of those outdoor pillows and fancy effing dinnerware all day. Give me some dirt.”
“We don’t have any dirt. We’re just doing some shopping. I need a shirt for the Burtons dinner next week. I dragged Braden with me,” I said, reaching for his hand unthinking.
I dropped it like a hot potato a half a second later. Had I really tried to hold his hand in public? Geez, I’d never done that before. Sure, I’d kissed him against the wall outside a restaurant and in the middle of a sports store, but holding hands was different. It was…boyfriend-y.
“I love that. It’s so gay,” she gushed. “I mean that in the best possible way. I always wanted a gay kid. Elly’s a dream come true. He’s always surprising me too. Go to that place on the corner. Billy’s or Bilson’s…I forget what it’s called, but they’ve got snazzy stuff. They can do a nice ‘his and his’ ensemble. Not too matchy, just complementary. You’re going together, right?”