I hold her stare, not backing down.
“Fine.” She shrugs casually. “You don’t have to buy something here, but then you’re not getting me anything later.”
Well, that’s not going to work. I’ve been planning my shopping day with her for weeks now.
“Fine,” I resign. “I’ll let you buy me one thing, and shoes are off the table.”
A cute giggle echoes through her as we go in search of something for me to get.
I’m trying my very best not to let Stevie know how stoked I am on our thrift store find. Hidden deep in the racks was an old-school Chicago Devils windbreaker from the nineties. It’s completely legit, still in pretty good shape, and I can’t wait to wear it to one of her brother’s games when the time comes that we can be in public together.
But it’s my turn to take her shopping, and I’m pumped. I’ve had this planned for a bit and made sure my jeweler closed the place down so no one would spot Stevie and me together. I’ve spent enough money with him over the years that he was happy to do it.
This side of town is closer to our places, so I dropped Rosie at home. The streets are filled with fine-dining restaurants, high-end designer shops, and art galleries. Lewis is a highly sought-after jewelry designer with high-profile clients, so thankfully, he has a private back entrance for us to use.
“Zee, this is already way too extravagant.”
A condescending laugh escapes me. “Have you met me, sweetheart?”
As soon as we’re inside, Stevie stands behind me, tucking her hand into mine, a bit of intimidation covering her face.
“Hey, Lewis,” I call out with a wave as we head towards the glass cases showcasing his work.
“EZ, my man.” He connects his fist with mine. “Good to see you. Have we decided what we’re shopping for today?”
Looking back at Stevie, her blue-green eyes wander the glass cases with fear.
“Have you decided what you’re shopping for today, Vee?”
She quickly shakes her head. “Nothing.”
“Those aren’t the rules,” I remind her. “You bought me something at your place. Now I get to buy you something at mine.”
“Zee, I spent fifteen dollars on you.”
“And I’m going to spend a little more.”
“I’ll go grab your other piece while you two decide what you’re shopping for,” Lewis cuts in.
“Other piece?”
A sly smile slides across my lips. “I got Ella her first chain.”
“Like yours?”
“Similar. Smaller, obviously, and more feminine.”
I watch as Stevie melts in front of me.
“But what are we getting you?”
“Really, Zee, this is too much.”
“We made a deal.” I swing my arm over her shoulders, pulling her into my body, my lips quickly ghosting her forehead. “You bought me something, so I get to buy you something. Pick which of your jewelry is your favorite to wear, please. We’re going to upgrade it.”
“My favorite jewelry to wear?”
“Mm-hmm.”
A sneaky smile overtakes her lips, but before she can answer, I respond for her. “Besides my hand.” She drops her shoulders to whine that I got to that one before she could. “For real, though. What are we upgrading today?”
Stevie contemplates, and I can almost see her wheels turning as she goes over her jewelry in her mind. Her nose ring, her plethora of earrings, her stacked necklaces, and lastly, her—
“Rings,” she finally states. “My rings are my favorite.”
I had a feeling, which is why I brought her here instead of just buying her something. I knew she’d need to get sized for new rings.
She grabs my hand in hers, holding it up to examine it. “And we’ll upgrade this one too, right?” she asks, referring to the gold ring of hers I’ve been wearing on my pinky since she decided to give me a chance.
I’ve thought about it, mainly because it’s become worn and faded, leaving a small ring of green on my skin, seeing as the only time I take it off is when I’m playing hockey. But there’s no chance in hell I’m upgrading this. Stevie’s hands might drip in 24-karat gold after today, but this five-dollar beat-up ring is hers, and therefore it’s mine.
“Nah.” I bring our intertwined hands to my mouth, peppering kisses on hers. “This one stays.”
Stevie’s eyes are wide with excitement as Lewis sizes her, customizing a new set of rings for her. Some fingers will be stacked with two and others just one. And the more the realization sinks in that she won’t have to replace these every few months like her old ones, the more detail-oriented and particular she becomes, knowing she’ll have these for as long as she wants.