Page 6

6

BLAKELY

I triple-check the sum in my bank account before putting my phone away and tightening my hold on the shoebox. The clearance tag on the shelf is bright yellow, but I stare at it one last time, making sure I grabbed the right shoes.

With Nate at football practice this afternoon and then work at the video game shop, I knew I wasn’t going to get a better chance than this one to sneak away and pick him up the shoes he’s been eyeing for months now. They’ve never gone on sale before, so when I saw the flyer in the mailbox with these exact cleats circled last week, I found a way to make the discounted price work.

Sure, I could use the money on something more important. There’s always a cost that I could prioritize over a pair of fancy cleats, and I have been doing that. For months, I’ve passed on new clothes or a book that caught my eye on the shelf at the grocery store. My makeup is expired, and I’ve cut my lotion bottle in half to get all the remaining product out. Nathan has been using the same football gear for the past two years, and with how fast he’s growing, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it another without upgrading.

His passion for football will be what gets him out of our tiny apartment that I’m on the brink of losing. He’s made for the big leagues, and with his drive and passion for the sport, I know he’ll get there one day. My only job as his guardian is to give him everything he needs to succeed while loving him along the way. And after the events of last night, I’ve been thinking about that a lot more. I don’t want to have to steal things to make him happy. I’m going to do it the right way.

That’s why I’m here in this store today, prepared to use ninety percent of this week’s grocery money on a pair of shoes.

Keeping my stride confident, I move through the aisle of sports gear while pricing out the things I need to replace for Nathan. It’s busy in here today, and I’m one more bump from a stranger away from snapping at the one closest to me.

“No, he went that way. Why would he be at the tills?” a teenage girl snaps while shoving at another girl’s back. The name on the jersey she’s wearing looks familiar, but I can’t place it.

It’s a football jersey. I don’t own one myself, but I’ve washed too many of Nate’s not to recognize one when I see it.

The girl’s friend doesn’t appear to believe her. “Did you see him go that way, or are you just guessing?”

“I don’t know! I’m just guessing because that’s where everyone else has gone. Duh.”

“Fine! But if you’re wrong, I’m so going to cry.”

The girls hold hands while slipping around a tall man also in a green jersey and racing to the back of the store. I carry on toward the tills, realizing the crowd has slimmed over here.

Whoever everyone seems to be here to see isn’t on this side of the store. I release a thankful sigh and make my way to the first empty register.

“Hi!” The cashier’s smile is genuine as she waits for me to hand over the shoebox.

I smile back. “Hey.”

“You chose a busy day to come do some shopping. ”

“Yeah, I noticed that. Is there some sort of signing or something going on?”

The woman behind the register looks young, maybe a year or two younger than me, and is wearing another one of those orange jerseys. The logo on the front is the BC Pythons, Nate’s favourite CFL team.

She takes the box from me and scans the barcode before moving it to the other side of the till. “It’s not really a signing. A player from the Pythons showed up about an hour ago to sign some of his shoes.” Eyes widening, she lifts the shoebox up between us and taps the name and number on the side of it. “Oh, wow. This is actually who I’m talking about. You should totally go get these shoes signed after you finish paying!”

I double blink. “You mean number seventy-seven is here? Right now?”

She nods furiously. “I think he’d prefer us to call him by his name, but seventy-seven works too.”

I’ve never been able to remember all the players’ names that Nate loves. It’s much easier to focus on the numbers instead of matching both. But Bateman would make sense. That’s the name on the back of all the jerseys I’ve seen while I’ve been here.

“I do think I’ll get these signed after. Thank you,” I say.

“No worries. I’d hate for you to miss out on such a great opportunity. I’m going to try and get him to sign my jersey!”

“Is he a nice guy?” I ask, pulling my bank card out from behind my phone case.

She finalizes inputting the shoes with a nod. “Not only nice, but he’s so good-looking. I started sweating so bad when he got here that I had to sneak away and reapply my deodorant. There’s just something about a man in a backward hat, you know?”

Oh, I know.

A rush of shivers travels down my spine. It’s like I can almost feel Jamie’s eyes on me again. That lightning-blue gaze that attempted to peel me apart layer by layer .

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve been gushing. You probably just want to pay and get out of here. The total for the shoes is one hundred and fifty-seven dollars and twelve cents. You’re paying with debit?”

My stomach shrivels. “How much did you say?”

“One hundred and fifty-seven dollars and twelve cents.”

“What about the sale? Is that with the discount?”

She purses her lips and looks at the screen beside her. Another customer joins us, pretending to be busy looking at the socks on the hooks beside the register as they wait behind me.

“I don’t see a sale here. As far as I know, that ended yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” I ask, my voice cracking. “No, I put the date in my calendar and everything. It ends tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry. It was yesterday.”

The sting behind my eyes is instant. My throat tightens, making it hard to speak. “Are you positive?”

“Do you want me to call my manager? I can have him check and confirm, just in case,” she offers softly.

I press my hand to my chest and stare at the box, something cracking behind my ribs. The eighty dollars I had saved was already a lot, but I was willing to sacrifice a few things to be able to afford it. This would be almost double that, and I don’t . . . I don’t know if I can make that work right now. Not with me being between jobs.

The cashier’s gasp doesn’t faze me. I curl my fingers in my shirt and swallow, hoping the other customer has decided to find another register instead of watching me right now.

“I’ll pass on these?—”

“There you are, babe. I was starting to think you got lost. Had me looking all over the place for you,” a familiar voice drawls.

There’s no way he’s here right now. Not while I’m about to embarrass myself.

I squeeze my eyes shut, but his presence lingers, pressing into my side. The smooth scent of expensive cologne floats toward me, and then a very large, very warm hand is touching my spine.

Hot air curls around my ear, forcing another shiver down my body. “It’s a goddamn pleasure to see you again, Bandit. Now, play along for me, yeah?”

Pulling my stare from the shoebox, I swing it past the shocked cashier and to those same lightning-blue eyes I was thinking about minutes ago. The calmness in them is like a balm to the madness in my brain, and like a fool, I let it relax me for just a second.

Jamie looks from me to the box of shoes at the register and does a piss-poor job of hiding a smirk. With a flick of his tongue over his bottom lip, he slides his hand up to my shoulder blade and flashes the cashier his bank card.

“I don’t know why you insist on buying these when I have a million pairs at home, but if it makes you happy, we’ll add another one to the collection,” he says, his voice a low rumble.

“You have them at home?” I whisper, trying to piece together what’s happening right now.

“Of course I do. They’re mine. How did you forget?”

My thoughts lag. “Yours?”

Jamie chuckles as he twists his body until he’s nearly wrapped around my side. My arm hangs limp at my side, knuckles grazing the thick muscle in his thigh.

“Mmhmm, just like you, baby,” he murmurs lovingly while tapping his card to the debit machine.

I don’t have the confidence to look at where I can feel the cashier gawking at me. There’s no part of me that wants to know what she’s thinking. If I did, I’d feel even shittier about myself, no doubt about it.

This man, this stranger , has just swooped in and not only saved me from the embarrassment of being the person who has to admit they can’t afford something that so many others can but has also played it off like we’re together. Romantically.

The transaction goes through with a loud beep, and then the cashier is handing him a receipt that he tucks into his front pocket alongside his card. He spreads his fingers over my shoulder and runs his nails over the thin material of my shirt.

“You didn’t mention that you were dating Jamieson Bateman while I was gushing about him! That’s so seriously cool,” the cashier says, sounding a bit winded as she glances between the two of us, then focuses on him. “Can you sign my jersey? If you have the time, of course. I’m a huge fan.”

Without stepping away from me, Jamie— Jamieson —flashes a dimpled grin at her. “Do you have a pen?”

She whips one out from the waistband of her leggings and all but shoves it into his hand before turning to show us the name and number on the back of her jersey. The same number that’s on the shoebox that I snatch from the register.

Jamie is quick with his signature, and a beat later, the cashier is spinning back around, her grin wide enough it must hurt.

“Thank you!” she squeals.

“No worries.”

“Could you sign something for me too?” another customer asks.

A third joins the mix, and I realize quickly that the crowd is starting to grow. “Me too!”

This time, they’re too far away for Jamie to stay close. His eyes focus on me for a few seconds before he almost reluctantly pulls away to face the fan.

With his attention spread between everyone around us, I escape. The shoebox feels heavier than it did before as I hug it against my chest and rush out of the store. It’s all very thiefy, but despite my antics last night, that’s not who I am.

The sun is hot when I step outside, but it’s better than burning alive in Jamie’s vicinity. Every step I take away from the store loosens the chains wrapped around my throat until, finally, I can get a full breath in.

He didn’t have to buy these shoes for me. I almost wish he hadn’t. If I didn’t know that this was the only way for Nate to have them, I would have left them there.

“Bandit!”

His voice hits me, and a beat later, I’m increasing my pace.

“I know you can hear me! Just wait up for a second. Please,” Jamie begs before footsteps start pounding the pavement.

“My name isn’t Bandit!” I yell back, unable to help myself.

“So, tell me what it is. I’m desperate here. And slow down, I had practice today already!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be some fancy football player? How are you winded?”

“So, you do know who I am after all.”

I can just hear how wide his smug grin must be.

“Only because I had your name shoved in my face so many times in that store,” I toss back.

He blows out a laugh, sounding far closer than he was a second ago. His cologne hits me first, and then his bicep brushes my shoulder.

I refuse to look at him and keep my eyes trained on the pedestrians crossing the street ahead of us.

“You know more about me than I do about you. How about we change that?”

“How about you stop following me like a weirdo instead,” I suggest.

He doesn’t get offended by my rudeness. “I wasn’t expecting to see you in there. Wasn’t expecting to see you at all without a lot of effort, to be honest. But I’m happy I did.”

Coming to a sudden stop, I plant my feet on the concrete and pin him beneath narrowed eyes. He realizes that I’ve stopped walking half a second after and does the same. When he looks back at me, I stomp down on the part of me that screams about how attractive this man is.

I thought having to stare at him half-naked in his house was the worst possible thing for me, but today, right now, I’m not faring much better .

He’s wearing the same baseball hat as last night, keeping it fixed backward, but instead of sweatpants, he’s in a pair of above-the-knee, olive-green shorts. They’re short enough that I can make out the bottom of his thick hamstrings and the bulging muscles in his calves as he stands in front of me. They’re criminally sexy. Maybe even more so than his abs.

Maybe .

I jab a finger into the air and hope I don’t look as flushed as I feel. “Don’t say stuff like that.”

“Stuff like what? I’m a very honest guy. It’s impossible for me not to tell someone how I’m feeling,” he admits.

“Well, stop. You don’t even know me. While I appreciate you saving me from embarrassment back there, it doesn’t make us friends.”

“What would, then?” he asks without a hint of hesitation.

“I don’t understand you.”

“What’s there to understand other than that I want to get to know you?”

“Stop saying stuff like that!”

The corner of his mouth quirks. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“Is this charity or something?” I accuse.

His smile falls. “Charity for what?”

“You caught me trying to steal from you, and now I can’t even afford a pair of shoes? I didn’t need you to butt in and buy them for me either. I’ve never taken a handout in my life, and I don’t plan on making a habit of it now.”

We’ve stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. It’s beyond awkward when people begin to pass us with odd, curious looks. Either they recognize him and don’t understand why he’s dealing with a crazy chick on the street yelling at him, or they’re just judging our conversation. Either way, it doesn’t help my emotional turmoil right now.

Jamie slides his hands into his pockets and rolls his bottom lip into his mouth. “You’re not charity, Bandit. I didn’t think that last night, and I don’t today. The only thing I’ve been thinking these past few minutes is how grateful I feel to have seen you again. And I know that sounds like a line, but it’s not.”

Keeping my chin high, I ask, “I’m just supposed to believe that?”

“I’d like it if you did, but I don’t expect you to. I’m just a random guy.”

“That’s not a very convincing sentiment.”

“Do you want me to stand here and convince you?”

“No.”

“Then let’s spend our time doing something else. If I were to ask to drive you home, would you let me?”

“No. But, as a thank you for the shoes, you can walk with me.”

“Deal.”

My eyebrows jump in disbelief. “You don’t want to think about that for a minute? I could have us walking for three hours.”

“That’s three hours I’ll have to convince you to say yes to my proposal. I wouldn’t turn that down.”

“What proposal?”

He winks before finding a spot at my side again and tilting his head down to look at me. “We’ll talk on the way.”