Page 14 of Regret Me Not
“That’s… that’s really nice.” Suddenly Pierce wanted to cry. “You’re really good at this planning stuff, you know? Babying my weak ass? It’s… it’s nice, that’s all.”
Oh!He’d never seen such preening. But since Hal was preening as he held up decent-looking shirts in his size, Pierce was going to call it a win.
He tried on two pairs of jeans and three shirts, awkwardly taking things on and off in the cramped dressing room while his semiabused body ached. He held out the one pair of jeans that fit and said, “I’ll get these, okay?”
“What about the shirts?” Hal asked, taking the jeans and scrupulously not looking at Pierce’s bare and scarred body in the cubicle.
“Well, the blue one fits and looks pretty good, the red one is too tight, and the yellow one…. Tweety Bird and me should not be friends.”
“Gotcha. I’ll go get these—”
“No, no.” Pierce waved him off. “No—this was a good idea, and it was fun, and I’m the one getting the clothes. I’ll get them.”
Halhmmed noncommittally. “Just get dressed,” he said mildly. “I’ll meet you at checkout.”
Pierce met him at the cash stand, where Hal presented him with the bag of already purchased items—plus another pair of jeans and three shirts in the same size.
And a belt.
“Aw, man!” Pierce said, looking through the bag’s contents. “That’s not—”
“It was my choice,” Hal said, only the faintest bit of rebellion in his tone. “Here—let me carry the bag. We can go eat at the spicy seafood place, and you can promise that next time we go out, you’ll look less like a suburban dad and more like a hot guy in his thirties.”
Pierce wrapped both mental hands around his misanthropy and asked patiently, “Why? Why is it so important to you that I don’t look like a suburban dad?”
Hal scowled—and the look was surprisingly effective on him. “’Cause that guy scoping me out was shady, that’s why. For all he knows, we’re on a date, and I don’t like anyone throwing shade on you.”
“You did see him!” He knew it!
“Well, yeah. But it’s rude. People used to do that to Russ and me all the time.”
“Try to poach you from your boyfriend?” Pierce was lost.
“No. Try to poach Russ. He’s sort of a model, and he’s really frickin’ beautiful. And he used to laugh it off, like it was no big deal. And then….” He shook his head. “Here. The spicy fried fish is to die for. I’d do that.”
Pierce was just grateful to hobble through the outdoor mall into the bar-style restaurant and sit down. Lord, it was sixty degrees outside, but the humidity and the glare of the sun made it feel about eighty. He really hated the trickle of sweat that crept from his neck to between his shoulder blades to disappear under the waistband of his jeans and haunt the crack of his ass.
A perky waitress with thick blonde hair in twin french braids seated them and took their drink orders, leaving Pierce to look around, grateful they’d arrived in the afternoon lull.
“Mm…,” he said, closing his eyes and turning his face toward the fan. “Air conditioning.”
Hal laughed, some of his earlier bitterness fading away. “You Californians—you’re easy to please,” he said, and Pierce waggled his eyebrows.
“Yup. You have no idea.”
“Maybe someday.” Hal winked and looked at the menu. “So, the spicy fried fish—”
“They’ve got a fish and chips plate with it?”
“Yup—right there. It’s big enough for two if you want to split it.”
Oh perfect.“You read my mind.”
They set their menus down, and Pierce wondered whether or not to break their little bubble by asking the hard question.
Then Hal said, “Yes, he cheated on me. A lot. And the thing is, I believed him when he said it wasn’t personal. He just got… lured. I mean, it was his fault, but he was like a dog chasing a cat and running into the street. Just never saw the bad thing coming, not even when it was fucking him, you know?”
Ouch.“I’m sorry.” Pierce meant it with all his heart.