Road Trip (H.S.)

Chapter 37

Harry

"What do you think about this?" 

I hold up a dress, watching as the fabric sways back and forth. It looks a little short but it's very sexy. I can picture Felicity wearing this, the way it would hug her body in the right places and show off every physical aspect of hers that I love. Yes ... love. At this point I shouldn't beat around the bush about my feelings for her, except ... I don't know if I should express those to her just yet.

Anyway, if she doesn't want to buy this dress then I will buy it. I'll take her out to dinner tonight so she can wear it. It'll be a date and then-

"Absolutely not," Felicity interrupts my train of thought. The look on her face as she stares at the dress in my hand informs me that it's not as great of a choice as I originally thought. She shakes her head before going back to rummaging through the clothes on another rack. "It's a halter dress."

I have no idea what that means so I stare blankly at her. I'm a bit confused and it doesn't look like she's going to elaborate.

"What's bad about a halter dress?"

"They're just not my thing. I don't really wear them because they aren't very flattering on me."

"But I think this one would look great," I hold the dress up again and picture her in it. She'd look stunning with it on. I don't know what she's talking about.

"That's sweet of you to say ... but no," Felicity sheepishly shrugs before moving onto another rack in this tiny boutique.

We've probably walked into three different boutiques already. I'm not sure if she's looking for something specific or if she's just browsing, but I'm certain Felicity has gone through every clothing item from each shop and has walked out empty handed each time. Is that weird? Maybe I have this misconception that a woman can't walk into a clothing store without buying something. I mean, both my mother and my sister would always find something to buy wherever they went. 

I trail behind her after I reluctantly place the dress back on the rack. As we walk across the shop to the sale section, I find a small armchair and sit myself down while I wait for Felicity to finish up her browsing. I don't really know what's so special about tiny boutiques like these. They're not very impressive. They always have the oddest clothing, like funky patterns on dresses and bows on every product in sight. It's really ridiculous looking, and I don't know what draws women into it. It's ugly.

Then again, I'm a male. These kind of things aren't up my alley. I also don't know anything about fashion, so maybe this crap is trendy or something. 

We apparently don't have the same taste in clothes either. In the first boutique we walked in, I tried to help her out finding whatever it was she might have been looking for. When she was rummaging around the shirt racks, I'd try to find a shirt she might like. When she was browsing through the dresses, I'd pull out a couple of them and see if she liked them. I could see the employees in the boutique giggling amongst themselves as they watched me cluelessly pull items from the racks and seek Felicity's approval. But with each item I held up, she would lightly laugh and shake her head, claiming it wasn't something she would wear. 

It's definitely a lot more difficult to try and help someone look for something when you don't even know what you're looking for. I will admit I felt a little embarrassed that I couldn't find anything that was up to par, so I've held back on participating in this shopping thing as much as I was before.

Eventually Felicity grows bored of the little boutique, having gone through every rack and jewelry table in the shop at least once. I get up from the armchair and follow her out into the wintery air, trying not to seem like a wimp as a gust of wind blows right at our faces. As the two of us walk down the street looking for the next shop to walk in, I find myself thinking back to the events of last night. My heart beats a little faster as I remember the way we danced in the club and the way her body felt against mine. It was so electric and addicting. I really haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I definitely can't stop thinking about our kiss.