If Renata’s eyes got any bigger, she could pass for a lemur. Never had Wilson had any cold sweats before because a girl watched him intently. He hoped she would say something instead of the awkward silence between them. What he thought earlier was true; the clothes on him had to be so awful. The embarrassment was so potent, so he closed the door again.

“Wait!!!! What are you doing??? You look so damn good, Wil!!! Don’t take that off!!!!” Renata’s barreling words startled him. And not just him; everyone near the fitting room area, too. But she didn’t care as she barged into the fitting room.

Her hands touched his chest, shoulders, and arms, which made his breath hitch. It's a miracle he could express his opinion. "Renata, I'm uncomfortable in this outfit. I think the shirt is too tight, but the trousers are fine."

Renata turned him around to face the mirror as she stood behind him, her head peeking at his side. “OK, first of all, you are the new definition of ‘Sexy as Hell’. Look at you: broad shoulders, lean but muscular, and a narrow waist. But I get your point; see the creases here...” She touched the edge of his shoulders. “the shoulders are too taut even though it’s a stretchy fabric. Your choice then, keep this or pick one size larger.” She patted his back before walking out, leaving him breathless.

He didn’t notice he had held his breath all this time. How could he not? Wilson was in a small space with Renata, who was touching him. He would buy this shirt; Renata caressed him in it, so it was something logical to do. If wearing these obscene shirts made her touch him more often, he would say it was not a poor bargain.

After he took off the shirts and trousers, Wilson was about to go to the cashier when Renata stopped him. "Forget that; I have more. Wear these." She grabbed the clothes in his hand and gave him some other outfits. She chose not only long-sleeved shirts this time, but also jeans, jackets, pants, belts, and many other items.

Every time he tried one, he had to come out for Renata to see. Her reactions were nodding or circling him while commenting. An hour later, Wilson was glad that she had finished with him. He ended up purchasing two long-sleeve shirts, including that obscene dark green shirt, and a pair of jeans.

"Are you not buying anything, Renata?" He was paying for his stuff when he realized she had carried nothing.

She shrugged. "Nothing interesting. Let's explore more after we have lunch. I'm hungry."

He glanced at his watch; it was 1.15 p.m. What in the world was he doing? He should be accompanying her to find Christmas presents, but she ended up helping him shop, and he starved her in the process. “I’m sorry, Renata. I didn’t know it was already past noon.” He immediately grabbed his shopping bag and went out with Renata.

"I'm hungry, Wil, not starving. Besides, I enjoy dressing you up. We should do this more often." He almost dropped his bag in surprise as she linked her arm to his naturally. "I forgot; where are we going?"

"To Chows, just two blocks from here. I have made the reservation for 1 p.m; hopefully, they still have the table for us." Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the restaurant.

James recommended this place because their food was awesome. Wison remembered him saying, "È delizioso!" while kissing his pursed fingers.

A server welcomed them politely and guided them to a table for two in the back, next to banks of windows. He assumed people who came alone would choose to sit at the bar table.

Inside, red oak wood adorned the casual restaurant that reminded him of his home. Wilson’s father was so fond of this wood that he especially made a custom order for a giant dining table, including 20 dining chairs.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

When Renata was about to sit, Wilson pulled back the black iron chair. Renata removed her coat and laid it over the back of her seat. She wore a long-sleeved, light yellow sweater that stopped at her thigh. A crude drawing of a black cat adorned the off-shoulder sweater at the bottom edge.

The waiter handed them the menu books and stood waiting next to their table. As Renata read the menu, one of her collarbones winked at him, and not only at him apparently. The male server was also enjoying her creamy white skin peeking out from its gaping hole, which forced Wilson to cough loudly to jar him.

"Oh sorry, what do you want to eat, Wil? Should we share food?"

Perfect, she misunderstood him. He masked it as he asked her, "Do you want some pizza?"

"I want some wrap, French fries, and salad aside from the pizza, but I don't think I can finish them all. Do you mind helping me with half the wraps and the salad?"

"Fine with me. Do you have any allergies? What toppings do you want for the pizza?" Maybe it would be better to let her choose; he could eat anything as long as it was edible. He had no strong aversion to any food.

There were two kinds of pizza here: white sauce and red sauce pizza. After going back and forth with the waiter, Renata ordered an 18-inch red pizza with various meat toppings, a shrimp wrap, a caesar salad, house-made french fries, and a roast beef sandwich for him. The server scurried to place her orders.

"You don't like Italian bread, Renata?"

"I like it, but I prefer grilled tortilla right now, lighter in my tummy." She grabbed a black pen from her bag and started drawing on the napkins.

Wilson knitted his brows and chuckled in amusement. "What are you sketching, Picasso?"

Every time she threw him a sweet smile, his heart was ready to jump out of his rib cage. "I'm not that kind of painter; I'm designing... stuff."

"What stuff?"

Her shrug sent one of her shoulders peeking out. "Many kinds, like bags, wallets, shoes, sunglasses, stuff like that."

"May I see it when it's done?" He was happy that Renata allowed him to see her drawing. She even pulled out of her bag a small sketchbook and handed it to him. Another gem had fallen into his lap unexpectedly.

Wilson had never seen her so serious while having fun at the same time before. He could tell she was enjoying herself at the moment. He kept silent so as not to disturb her. Her eyes occasionally darted to the surrounding people, or the pedestrian outside. He could watch her all day, if it were possible.

He unconsciously whimpered when the waiter brought their orders as the tranquility moment was disrupted. Wilson almost glared at the waiter but held back when he saw Renata’s excited face. She hurriedly stored her sketchbook and the doodled napkins in her bag.

Renata placed half of her shrimp wrap on Wilson’s sandwich plate, along with half of her Caesar salad, before she took a bite. Her loud, appreciative hum was a good sign of her approval.

Honestly, Wilson preferred Italian bread over grilled tortillas. However, just one bite changed his mind. The battered and fried shrimps were sweet, a perfect combination with their homemade roasted red pepper remoulade, shredded lettuce, roasted tomatoes, and delicate tortillas. It was simply so delicious that he finished it in just three bites. He should have eaten the wrap after finishing his sandwich.

Watching the way she ate was more appealing than eating the food himself that he stopped eating his pizza halfway through.

"Why are you stopping, Wil? You don't like the pizza?"

"Their pizza is superb. Here, eat more pizza. Which one do you like the most?" Wilson found another joy, which was feeding her.

She thought for a while before she answered him while munching her last bite of the wrap. “Hmm, the salad was OK. Their French fries with homemade chipotle aioli dipping sauce are also great. But I love their pizza the most..... Wait, no, I think I like the wrap....Um... oh, I don’t know.... Each of them is delicious. The shrimps are so fresh that they are sweet. And the pizza is meat heaven. You give me a headache if I have to choose my favorite. Which one do you like the most, Wil?”

“Pizza, hands down. The wrap was great, considering tortillas aren't what I’d usually prefer. Good choice, Renata.” Wilson understood what she meant by meat heaven. Their pizza had lots of toppings, such as bacon, sausage, pepperoni, and prosciutto. They were also generous from pouring on red sauce, fresh mozzarella, ricotta, and fresh basil. He needed to thank James for his recommendation later.

"Is this your favorite pizza place, Wil? How did you know this place?"

"This is also my first time here, actually. James told me this is his favorite place with Meghan." For the love of God, why on earth did he mention Meghan?