wanna bet? | dream x Reader

November 9th 2021 | y/n

"Now I'm not going to stop asking." He smirks. My face immediately turns bright red. I roll my eyes and reach behind me for the doorknob.

10:39 A.M

I shut the car door and wait for Clay to exit his side. I hear the car door close and I begin walking. "Why didn't you let me drive?" He asks me, meeting me at my side. I smile up at him. "What? Got a problem with the way I drive?" I laugh.

"Wow, how sexist," I smirk. "It's sexist that you were going 70 in a 55?" He replies. I elbow him in the arm. I look at him again. He gleams back, rubbing his arm. "62, max." I shake my head and turn my gaze straight again.

We walk in and he points at a kid's store. "We can go get toys." He imitates a child. I chuckle and roll my eyes. He hits my hip with his while a big smile sits on his face. I mock his movement.

"What stores do you normally shop in?" I ask him. He shrugs and begins walking again. "Whatever sells comfortable stuff." I look down at his sweats and back up at his hoodie. "Uh-huh." Irritation in my sound.

We keep walking in silence. "So,"

"You gonna give me a number?" He asks me. I lower my eyebrows and face him again. "What do you mean?" I ask. He snickers deviously and walks into an H&M.

"How many guys?" He asks me. I shove him with a smile. "You're such an-"

"Do you need any help today?" A woman asks us. I look at her and Clay steps closer to me. "No thank you." She nods and walks off, her brown hair flopping up and down as she leaves. "She's pretty," I say and drag him towards some jackets.

"Mhm..." He tapers off. I explore the men's clothing section. Examining every little piece of fabric. It's too hard looking for clothes for guys. Especially when they say they only wear comfy clothes. I get owning them, but when you go out you seriously want to wear only comfortable shit? You have to look nice sometimes.

I could always ask if he likes this st-

Where did that son of a bi-

Of course, normally it would be hard to find someone in a larger store like an H&M, but when you can see the top of their head peeking over every rack of clothing it's not too difficult. Why did he choose to hide from me in the women's clothing anyway?

I walk over to him. Except I go slow and I hide behind a rack to try and figure out what he's doing. He's not hiding. It looks as though he's searching through a couple of dresses.

He holds a few of the same dresses up, except you can see they are different sizes. His gaze sticks on the tags at first, then he peers around the whole dress. What the hell is he doing?

"Uhm excuse me?" He calls a worker over. A woman, different from the first, probably 5' with short died blue hair walks over to Clay. "Do you need help with anything?" She asks him. I probably look insane right about now. I should probably walk off right about now.

"Well- I uh- I need help with a couple of things. First, I need help fin-" Then he's out of reach to hear.

I go back to the men's clothes and look through the stuff again. I see a few pairs of jeans he may consider. A few shirts he might even wear after he leaves. Shopping for women is so much easier. Ugh. Men.

When I look out of the corner of my eye I see Clay still talking to the woman. He points towards me, but I pretend not to see at all. I turn around and try my best not to think about it.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and I turn around. I look up to see a glisten in Clay's eye as his white teeth show with a big open smile. Then I look at what he's holding.

A beige dress with puffy sleeves that go about mid-bicep. The dress may reach the bottom of my knees. For H&M winter, I'm shocked. "Clay." I smile.

He pouts and holds it out farther. "I'll never wear it," I say to him. "Please, I tried so hard to find it." He responds. "You mean the worker tried so hard," I reply. "I tried hard, okay? And women's sizes are stupid. I looked at your pants for about twenty seconds and got confused." I nod.

"Speaking of which, I didn't want to assume, so like, are these pants right?" I hold them out and he inspects the tag. He takes the rest of the pairs of pants from my arms and takes them back to where I got them. I guess I got the sizing wrong.

He tosses them to their original spot and walks off to the sweats. Oh, he played me. I just got checkmated.

Or not.

I rush over to him. "You don't get the jeans, I don't get the dress," I say to him. He glares in my direction. He bites his inner cheek. He walks over to the jean section. I eagerly follow after him.

"I haven't worn jeans or dress pants since August so it may take me a minute here." He says. He picks up one pair, I see a 34" which is probably the second number as he is in fact a long man. I don't think I want to know the first number.

12:27 P.M

We walk with our bags. We decided that we'd go to the food court, get something for lunch and then leave. The two of us have something catch our eye though.

I love a good Zumiez. Knowing how the guy feels about being comfortable, I figure that's what he sees too. But when I look up at his face I see a juvenile simper.

When I look forward from his grin I see a Victoria's Secret sign. I elbow him in the side. "Gah!" He holds his midsection and takes a step away from me. "You are so immature." I shake my head.

"You were looking there too!" He says. I gasp, to even imagine that I would be looking at the fucking Victoria's Secret. "No, I was not! I was looking at the Zumiez you prick!" I tell him.

"Well so was I!" He bluffs. I smirk and shake my head once more. "You just get turned on by the sight of anything, huh?" I ask.

"That's rich coming from the woman who has slept with so many men that she can't even remember the number." I gasp.

2:59 P.M

"I do remember." I close the car door. He laughs and closes his side. I meet up with him at his side as we make our way up to my door. "And you won't tell me? Suspicious." He grins.

He reaches for the door handle, but I see something on my porch table. "Wait, stop." I turn to the table. I reach for the yellow index card on the glass table. "Y/n?" He turns to look at me.

I pick it up and hold it up to look at. "Let me see." He says. I move the card so we can both see.

Hey y/n, it's me again. I truly do want to catch up. Here's a picture of me with my wife and two daughters. This is proof to you that I can be someone in your life. I just want to talk.

-From Desmond

I turn the card over. A family photo with a phone number above it. One that I assume is his. "They look like-"

"Me."