“I’m sure you’re keen to make partner. You’ll figure out a way to convince him. What about the aunt? Do you think she’s going to back down?”

“It’s unlikely. She’s looking to push the stability angle. Her age and her job are in her favor.” I’ve done some research on her. There isn’t much of a work history apart from her secretarial position at the school, which she’s held for the past several years. She has been married three times, however, which leads to some questions about her ability to provide emotional stability.

Beverly nods, her lips pursed as she contemplates this for a moment. “Then you need to stress that we’d be flexible with hours here. Do you know what kind of salary they’re paying him there?” She raps on the counter with her long, French-manicured nails. “Matching or exceeding his current salary will definitely be an enticement.”

I regard her over the lip of my coffee cup, testing the sweetness. “That’s a pretty personal question.”

“You’ve been spending time with him, though, and he really does seem to trust you. I bet you could find out. Will you see him again this week?”

I’m not sure the time I’ve been spending with Dax, with my tongue in his mouth, is the kind Beverly is referring to. “I will.”

“Great. See what you get out of him.”

A heavy feeling settles in my stomach as I hand Beverly her coffee and she saunters out of the lounge. I’m tipping the balance out of my favor, and I’m unsure who’s going to get hurt in the fall.

On Saturday morning I meet Dax and Emme at the mall when it opens. Emme threads her arm through mine and leads me from store to store. Dax’s job is to keep us hydrated and carry the bags. Two hours into the shopping extravaganza and he looks about done.

Emme disappears into a changing room with an armload of clothes, and Dax drops into a chair. “How long is this going to go on?”

“We could be at it all day.” She’s having a great time. While I’m typically dressed in suits from Monday to Friday, my weekend wardrobe consists mostly of jeans in a multitude of colors, T-shirts, and Toms.

Dax kicks at the toe of my llama-print shoes. “Your feet are tiny.”

I wag my brows. “I can buy kids’ shoes if I want.”

“What about clothes?”

“I’m too curvy.”

His eyes move over me in a slow sweep. “I like your curves.”

Based on what I felt pressed up against my stomach the last time he kissed me, I believe him. I’m still not sure what to do about my feelings for him, if anything, but things have shifted between us, and it doesn’t feel as if it’s something I can control.

Emme throws open the changing room door. She’s dressed in a pair of ripped, low-rise jeans, and a top that shows a good four inches of belly.

“What the—”

I kick his shin to shut him up. “I like the jeans.”

Emme does a little spin. “Me, too! I don’t know about the shirt, though.”

“I don’t think it fits the school dress code, does it? What if you wore a tank top under it?” I look around at the display close by and find a bright green tank. “Why don’t you put this on. Layers are totally in right now.”

“Good idea!” She nabs the tank and disappears back inside the changing room.

Dax groans under his breath. “Freaking belly tops?”

I pat his shoulder. “This is only the beginning.”

“Did you wear belly tops?”

I lift a shoulder. “I had a couple.”

He looks me over again, this time with a hint of something like disapproval. “Yeah, well, she’s only thirteen. She needs to dress like the kid she is, not a miniature adult looking to go to the club.”

“She’s not walking around in booty shorts and bandeau bras, Dax.”

“And she never will.”

I laugh at his dark expression.

Emme comes out a minute later with the bright green tank under the shirt. “That’s perfect! Isn’t it, Dax?” I nudge him.

“Oh yeah, looks great.” He gives Emme two thumbs-up.

We spend another half an hour in the store, Emme modeling outfits, Dax moaning about gray hair and committing murder and then balking at the five-hundred-dollar bill.

He trails behind us, laden down with bags, complaining about being hungry.

“Just one more store and we can break for something to eat,” Emme calls over her shoulder.

She elbows me in the side and nods in the direction of a store. “I wanna go in there, but I don’t really want Dax to come.”

I follow her gaze to the teenage version of Victoria’s Secret. “I’ll take care of it. You go on ahead and I’ll meet you in there.”

“What are you going to say?”

“I’ll just tell him this store is girls only.”

“Okay.” She hugs me—something I’ve come to expect these days—and then rushes on ahead, disappearing inside.

I turn, watching Dax’s eyes go wide as he takes in the storefront. He makes flailing hand gestures. “I thought we were clothes shopping.”

“Bras and underwear constitute as clothes.”

“For fuck’s sake. I’m going to need therapy after this.”

I put a hand on his chest to stop him from following Emme into the store. “You’re not invited to this part of the shopping experience.”

He frowns and sighs. Then digs around in his pocket and pulls out his wallet. Flipping it open, he fishes out a few hundred dollars. “Will this be enough?”

“I should hope so.”

He slips the money into my hand and then clasps it in both of mine. “Please just no thongs. I need her to be more little girl than teenager for a while longer. Then I can fool myself into believing boys aren’t going to be a problem soon.”

“No thongs, and nothing lacy or satin. I promise, only cotton.”

“Thank you.” He presses a soft kiss to my knuckle and his gaze lifts, along with the corner of his mouth. “Feel free to pick up something for yourself, too.”

I roll my eyes. “I’ll text when we’re done.”

I find Emme in the pajama section. “Thanks a lot for coming with us today. It would’ve been embarrassing to bring Dax in here.”

“I’m more than happy to have an excuse to go shopping.” I give her a side hug and we browse the pajamas.

“You know, Dax talks about you a lot.”

“Oh?” I’m not sure what to say to that.

Emme chews on her ragged thumbnail. “He really likes you.”

“Well, I like him, too. And I like you.” I knock my shoulder against hers. I have a feeling I know where she’s going with this, and I’d prefer to have a conversation with Dax, and maybe ask him exactly what he’s said about me. “Oh! These are fun!” I hold up a pair of black pajama pants covered in glow-in-thedark stars.

“Those are cool.” She picks up the pair with a black skull and pink rose design. “But do you, like, like him like him, or just like him?”

I feign ignorance. “What do you mean?”

Emme shrugs. “I don’t know. Are you guys just, like, friends and stuff?”

“We’re friends like you and I are friends.”

“Right. Yeah. That’s what I thought.” She looks disappointed, which makes me question exactly how Dax and I need to manage this moving forward. It’s the reason I haven’t committed to anything either way. I can manage a broken heart, but I can’t deal with breaking Emme’s if Dax and I don’t work out.

Emme and I spend the next half hour picking out bras and underwear, a couple of new pairs of pajamas, and some athletic wear.

“These are fun!” Emme picks up a pair of hot-pink boy shorts covered in cherries. I don’t think she gets what they mean yet. “Are you going to buy anything? You should get something, too.”

I humor her and let her pick out a few pairs of underwear for me. My personal favorite are the black and gold leopard-print ones that say GO WILD! over the crotch.

Dax is sitting on a bench, playing on his phone, when we come out of the store. He glances up, taking in Emme’s bag and my own much smaller one. “Successful?”

I pass him the change—there isn’t much. “Very.”

His gaze goes to the bag hanging from my finger, his eyebrow raised in question. “What’d you get?”

“We picked out some fun underwear for Kailyn!” Emme says, rather loudly, while grinning.

“Did you, now?” Dax smirks while my face turns red.

“I don’t know about either of you, but I’m starving! We should definitely find a place to eat.” Based on Emme’s smile, I have a feeling she might’ve invited me on this shopping trip with ulterior motives.

We end up at a sushi place and spend another two hours shopping after that. Dax is a trooper, giving his opinion when he sees something he likes. And of course I end up trying on a bunch of things, too, because Emme seems to think it’s funny for us to wear the same outfits, seeing as I’m not much taller than she is. I imagine when she hits her growth spurt she’ll shoot up.