Page 41 of Crushing Clover

When it came, his kiss was brief, and I didn’t let myself like it too much.

With his coffee in hand, Lucky was much less grumpy about strolling through the mall. Elderly couples window shopping or walking for exercise seemed to be the only other people around, other than workers on break, and the occasional mom with a stroller.

“I used to hang out at this mall,” he said, sounding almost wistful.

“You did?”

“Yeah. The three of us did when we were in high school.”

“You’ve known each other that long?”

“Since ninth grade. We had homeroom together and eventually started hanging out after school.”

“Let me guess—you were one of those little skater dudes?”

“How’d you guess?”

“It wasn’t difficult.”

He grinned. “Skating, surfing, drinking—that sort of thing.”

“Are you trying to tell me you weren’t a stoner?”

“Oh, I was absolutely a stoner.” He laughed. “I’m glad I never got into the hard stuff.”

He walked me into the first women’s clothing store he saw, apparently not noticing the banners out front showing happy silver-haired women hoisting grandchildren or playing with puppies.

The saleswoman inside glanced up. “Can I help you?”

“Hi,” he said, gazing around in bemusement.

“Are you shopping for someone? Your mom? Your grandmother?”

“Just looking, thanks.” He grabbed my hand and trolled me around the store as though any of the styles might appeal to him. He gave her a fake smile as we headed back to the front of the store. “I have no idea what she likes. I guess I’ll have to give her a call.”

She gave an awkward chuckle, and we left.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” he whispered when we were a few feet away from the store.

“I thought you had a polyester kink I was unaware of.” I shrugged innocently.

“How do you think people would react if I took you to that bench over there and put you over my knee?”

“They’d probably call mall security to kick us out of here.”

“Considering how few people are here to shop, I doubt security would throw us out for anything short of murder. I feel guilty for shopping online so much.”

“It’s easier. I think almost everyone feels the same way.” I shrugged.

He led me into a store that seemed very…young. The lone employee was busy helping a woman who was shopping with her teenage daughter.

I frowned at the displays as he frowned at me.

“This isn’t going to get done any faster if you don’t actually pick things to try on.”

“A lot of this looks like clubwear,” I said, running my fingers along short, shimmering spandex. “Are we going to be doing a lot of that?”

“No, but the stuff in here is sexier than what you’re wearing, at least.”

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