Strut the Mall (Love at Westbrook Mall #4)

3. Surprise

3

Surprise

After a whole shift numbing myself out on sorting gym shoes and ‘happy couples’ at work, I had to decompress. I texted Theo for support.

Me: Today sucked. Meet me at mine tonight?

Theo: Sure babe. What time?

Me: Seven.

That would give me plenty of time to shower the warehouse dust away. Maybe I ought to have a bubble bath. And sushi. Pre-prepped strawberry salad wasn’t exactly appetizing after a ten-hour shift. Strawberries and champagne, however…

I swung by the grocery store on my way home to make it happen, then texted Theo again.

Me: I have a surprise 3

For some reason, he showed up at my place early and knocked on the door. “I’m here, baby.”

I dashed to the bedroom. “One minute, I haven’t changed yet.”

“I don’t care what you’re wearing,” he said.

“Hold on, it’s not pretty.” I tore through my dresser drawers for anything date-worthy or at least not neon green.

“Please, baby, I’m freezing,” he said.

It was cold outside.

“Fine.” I bundled up in a hoodie and let him in.

He leaned his forearm on the frame like he was posing for a cover. An oversized hoodie hung open over his striped tank top, and his jeans rested low enough to read the band on his underpants. Only two pieces of hair strategically fell over his smoldering gaze. He’d frosted his tips and retouched his fade since I saw him on Sunday.

“You’re looking fresh,” I said.

“Thanks, baby. You’re sweet.” He kissed my cheek and pinched my hip as he walked past me toward the Fancee’s bag on the counter. “What did you get for me?” he asked.

“I’ll get it out of the fridge,” I said.

“Fridge?” He frowned.

I pulled out the sushi. “Yeah, see?” It was a nice platter, even if it wasn’t fancy.

He rubbed his chin and laughed. “Oh, when you said surprise, I thought you got me some Zeezy’s.”

Were those damned shoes all he thought about? This was date-night. I bit the inside of my cheek and set the sushi on the counter. “Is that why you were so eager to see me?”

“Of course not, baby.” He rubbed my shoulder and slowly unzipped my hoodie, his big, perfect lips inching closer. “After all, there’s always something under here for…” His eyes widened. “Wow, that shirt is bright.”

Heat flared through my chest. I pushed him back. “I told you I wanted to change.”

“I didn’t say it was ugly,” he insisted, following me to the bedroom.

I slapped the door to close it, but it bounced open just as I was tugging my clothes off. “It’s my uniform, okay?”

“I know, baby. You’re bringing in that bread.”

Wasn’t the phrase ‘dough?’ Ugh, it didn’t matter. I crumpled my shirt into a ball and tossed it into the laundry basket.

“You had a hard day. Why don’t you relax?” He dug his thumb into a sore spot on my shoulder.

“That was the plan.” I huffed. “I got strawberries and champagne. I was gonna take a bath. Instead–”

“I’ll draw it for you, okay? Dinner after.” He mimed minimizing my stress as if it was a windblown sheet to press on the bed, then retreated to the bathroom. “Relax.”

I took a deep breath.

Relax. Yes.

I could do that.

I let down my hair, then twisted it into a clip. Why was I getting so worked up about my work shirt? Or sushi and…surprises? I loved my life. I loved my boyfriend. I didn’t need to make a whole production of it for date night. We had the rest of our lives, a million special moments to come. Life would naturally give us surprises—good and bad.

Rolling my shoulders, I shimmied out of the rest of my clothes. “How was your day?”

The faucet squeaked on from afar when I slipped into a robe.

“Oh, you know. Laid some tracks. Ricky might’ve got me a set,” he said.

“He did?” I grinned, striding up to him in the brilliance and mist of my master-bath. “Congrats. When is it?”

“New Year’s Eve.”

My heart sank. “I’m working. Maybe if I open…” I played with the sash on my robe. At least Fancee’s closed early on holidays.

He tugged the other end of the sash and laughed. “What’s with this?”

“It’s silk,” I said, dropping my clothes on the counter.

“I know it’s silk, but why are you wearing it? I’ve seen you naked.” He wagged his brows and grinned.

I rolled my eyes, but smiled, and got a bath bomb from the bowl on the side of my tub. Flirting was not going to distract me from relaxing. “What time is your set on Thursday? I have a closing shift so I might be late.”

He juggled a few of the bath bombs. “Aw, babe. Why don’t you quit? You make enough money from your side gig for this place, plus some fun stuff.”

Not every month. Plus, I needed the excuse to keep moving and socialize, or I’d be on my phone all day waiting around for him. I put the bath bombs back–they were expensive–and straddled his leg. “I like the discount.” I shrugged out of my robe, electricity simmering under my skin.

Theo stared and rubbed his chin. “You’re looking extra-fine tonight, babe.”

“Thanks.” I wiggled my hips and used his shoulder to help me balance as I clambered into the hot water. “Want to join me?”

“That tub isn’t big enough for both of us.” He looked around. “You know what? Let me get your phone.” He eased it out from my clothes pile and used the pattern code to unlock it.

“Why?”

“So you can buy even more surprises. You deserve them. We both do.” He chuckled and handed me the phone with the photos app already open.

I guessed he was right. It would be nice to save up for a vacation. Somewhere warm. I’d need a new suit, a pedicure, and a wax. It all added up. I crossed my ankles and rested my feet on the edge of the tub. “I’m gonna do a video. Why don’t you play one of your songs low in the background?”

He raised his chin. “Great idea, babe. I got the perfect one.”

The thud of his baseline was kinda tinny coming from a cell phone speaker, but he bobbed his head to dance to it, so I figured it was fine for my fans too.

Framing my legs from my upper thighs down, I pressed record and turned the faucet off with my toes. This part was easy: rub my feet together, flex my toes, run the hot water and my hands over my calves. Theo mouthed his lyrics and danced quietly around the bathroom, performing for some imaginary audience. In his mind, the steam from the tub was probably like dry ice onstage. He interrupted his miming to type something out. I would’ve asked who he was talking to, but I had to stay quiet for recording. Once I had a few minutes of footage, I filtered, then posted it.

Five guys messaged me privately. Each direct message was bonus cash, and they all said some variation of the same thing.

Anon73: You’re a dirty girl, aren’t you?

They only wished that would work in real life. I chuckled and showed Theo. “Should I respond now or wait until after sushi?”

He shed his hoodie and sat on the edge of the tub. “No need to keep your public waiting.”

I rolled my eyes and smiled. These guys weren’t actual fans. I copied and pasted my response across the messages.

“What’d you say?” He thumbed through his own messages.

“I said, ‘I sure could use a good foot rub. Do you know anybody with strong hands who could help me?’” It felt silly to say aloud, but that kinda stuff was gold in this industry.

He leaned over. “Did they say anything back?”

My phone pinged with responses. “‘Pick me’ and lots of emojis.” Eggplants, water squirting, heart eyes, and feet.

He cackled and pulled my toes. “Bless you and your beautiful feet.”

“Theo, that tick–ahhhahaha.” I jerked away as he wiggled his fingers on the bottom of my arches. Bubbles wobbled up in protest.

He grabbed the pumice stone and jokingly swatted my leg with it. “Come on, gotta keep these babies happy.”

I splashed him, struggling to kick his hands off me. “You are so immature.” But as long as I could keep my head above water, we’d be fine. I was happy.