Until Harry(31)

“I don’t think . . .” he began slowly, “I don’t think your dad, or brothers for that matter, would let you wear that out in public.”

He spoke as if I would be walking around bare.

I snorted as I grabbed a tank top and pulled it over my head. “I’ll be wearing a T-shirt with it, not just my bra. Duh.”

“Yeah, I get that . . . but the jeans – they’re skintight.”

“What did you think skinny jeans meant?” I questioned.

Kale grunted. “I didn’t think you meant the skintight ones.”

“Well, I do. Do they look okay on me?” I asked, and then frowned. “Be honest.”

He looked down at the jeans, then back up to my eyes. “Yes, but you’re far too young for them.”

I felt my jaw drop open. “Kale, come on.”

He shook his head. “I’m serious. You’re only fifteen—”

“Sixteen in two months,” I growled, cutting him off.

“And I’m nineteen next month. If I notice you in them, so will other lads my age. I don’t like that. I don’t want you getting attention from lads in that sort of way. It’s not right.”

I frowned. “Why not?”

Kale opened his mouth, then closed it after a moment. “I don’t . . . I don’t know why exactly. I guess I feel protective of you. I just know I’d lose my head if I caught some lad staring at you for too long, Lane. I know what goes through a lad’s mind, and I don’t want you to be the centre of it. You’re fifteen.”

I knew how old I was, and it bugged the hell out of me.

“You’re going to have to accept that I’m getting older, and I’ll start dating soon.”

Although I had no idea if I’d ever start dating because I needed boys to be interested in me for that to happen.

“I’ll accept it when you’re fifty.” Kale grinned.

I laughed and shook my head. “You’re worse than Lochlan.”

He snorted and turned around while I took my jeans off and placed them in the “yes” pile. I tried on a few pairs of different-coloured leggings with long T-shirts then, and I didn’t need Kale’s opinion on them. They were cute, casual and something everyone could pull off, no matter their size.

I stepped into a sky-blue sundress that buttoned up in the back. I shimmied it up to my chest and slid my arms into the armholes, holding it against my chest so it wouldn’t fall down.

“Can you turn and button this up?” I asked Kale.

I watched as he turned around and glanced at my back like it was a foreign object. He stepped forward and began to button up the dress. He paused a few times when his fingertips brushed against my skin, but eventually he buttoned it up the entire way. Though it looked like he broke a sweat doing it.

I did a little twirl in the dress and beamed. “I love it.”

And that was the truth. Without looking for the faults that I was sure I would find, I took the dress at face value, and I thought I looked a little pretty in it.

“Me too,” Kale murmured.

I squealed with happiness at his agreement.

“Really? You aren’t just saying that because you’re my friend?”

“No,” Kale stated. “I’m definitely not saying it just because I’m your friend. Trust me.”

I lifted my hand for a high five, which Kale delivered half—heartedly.

I frowned. “Is everything okay?”

He nodded. “Everything is great. Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re being weird?”

“Weird?” he questioned, and folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not being weird – you are. How am I being weird?”

Yep, he is definitely being weird.

I shook my head and laughed. “What is going on with you today?”

“I have no bloody idea,” he grumbled, and scrubbed his face with his hands. “My stomach is hurting. Might be hunger pangs.”

I instantly felt bad for keeping him out so long without feeding him.

“I’ll finish here and we’ll go get food, okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

Ten minutes later we were in the queue to pay for my clothes, and just as we got to the till, I realised my jeans weren’t in Kale’s hands. “My jeans,” I murmured, and ruffled through the pile of clothes in Kale’s arms.

I looked at Kale but found he wouldn’t directly look at me.

I set my jaw. “Where did you put them?”

He groaned. “I don’t want you to buy them.”

I could have whacked him around the head.

I glared at him. “You’re unbelievable, Kale Hunt.”

I didn’t bother to look for them because I knew he would have hidden them. Instead, I walked to the rack I’d found the jeans on, got another size twelve and walked back to where Kale was waiting at the till.

“I didn’t anticipate this part,” he grumbled when he saw the new pair of jeans in my hands.

The man behind the till laughed at our exchange. “Don’t underestimate women, mate. They’ll surprise you at every turn,” – he glanced at me – “no matter what their age.”

I looked back to Kale and found he kept his eyes on me as he said, “I’m beginning to believe that.”