If there's a record for the slowest person to reach the mall from the intersection where Alex agreed to my plan for the evening, I would be the new title holder.

It seemed like such a good idea when my adrenaline was running high, but the very thought of picking something to wear in front of him is terrifying. Everything in me says he's not like Luther, but I can't get the judgemental look out of my head.

I don't think I'm ready. And I don't know how to tell him that.

But something tells me if I back out of this, he won't gather the nerve again. And as much as I don't want to do this in front of him, I don't want to let him go even more. Not without understanding what's going on in that big smart head of his.

Which is terrifying, now that I'm thinking about it.

The car behind me lays on the horn and I jump into action, turning into the mall parking lot. I have no idea how long I was stopped at the green light, but I know where I need to go.

"Come on," I say once I have the car in park. "Time for our innocent outfits for the remainder of the evening."

He lags slightly, hands wringing in his lap.

Reaching my hand out, I slip it down his arm until I have his hand grasped firmly in my own. "It's going to be okay. It's just a mall."

He doesn't laugh. Instead, it's like the feeling of my hand in his breaks him out of the trance he's been in and his fingers pull at mine. His eyes wander my own and then he nods, hopping out of the van and racing to keep pace beside me, fingers still twisting in my own.

When we reach the entrance of the mall, he pulls open the door and lets me walk through the gust of hot air into the mall's lobby and then steps in behind me and I admit to enjoying the way the gust of air ruffles his hair just a little. "Where are we going?" He asks. "And don't say the mall."

"I wasn't going to—"

"Your right eye was scrunching and you bit your lip," he points out. "You absolutely were going to."

How did he notice that? My own mother still hasn't figured it out. This is what I get for spending time with an actual genius, I guess.

"I'm going to need a better poker face," I laugh and he responds with a shrug, eyes lazily wandering over the Lazy Cafe and Soaps! Soaps! Soaps! He's probably trying to identify where the strange combination of scents is originating, but there's no winning that game. It permeates the air forever.

"Come on," I say, pulling him back to me with our still linked hands. "I'll show you."

We wander through more brightly lit hallways of fake marble floors and black accents, the high ceilings illuminated with twinkling Christmas lights and adorned with the occasional jack-o-lantern or festive ghost.

It's a very weird combination. Like they decorated for Christmas and threw Halloween decorations as an afterthought.

Probably they did. But I always liked Halloween better than Christmas anyway. More fun.

My feet are on autopilot, weaving through the small group of teenagers who've congregated around the second hand game store.

Once we're free of the group, Alex risks asking me where we're going one more time. His fingers squeeze mine as he does, like he's forgotten they are linked and wants to wring his hands together. He does that when he's nervous.

"I thought I told you before," I answer. "We're going to Jenna's Tartans."

"Jenna's Tartans?" His pace slows a little and his brows knit together.

"It's a gimmick." I say.

His eyes still ask for more.

"The name of the store is a gimmick. The owner's name is Alice and I think the woman is allergic to plaids."

He stops, pulling me to rest beside him. His eyes stare in that way they do when he's assessing odds.

"If you hate it we can leave," I offer, by way of comfort.

"Don't love malls at all," he answers. Then he looks down at his own outfit. "But this screams 'I just committed a felony or two' so I guess I should follow where you lead."

"Well, we did potentially commit a felony together. If that doesn't gain your trust, I don't know what will."

We round the last corner to the funky neon sign that's been a staple of this mall since before I was old enough to read. But with every step we take, I start to wonder how smart it is to take him here. To the surrogate second mother of my youth and the place of my refuge.

It's the cutest boutique you'll ever see and it's so not him. I'm not even sure it's me anymore. Maybe I shouldn't do it, but we're here now and when it comes to post-break-and-enter date nights, a girl has to feel good in her clothes. So as far as I see it, I don't really have a choice.

Alex leads the way through the doorway, pulling me in behind him with our still locked fingers, tingles of warmth filling me with a resolve I didn't realize was missing until I felt it there.

"What's this?" Alex asks, holding up a very small purse made out of an old camera or walkman bag.

"Mrs.---" I start to answer, but I'm interrupted by a crash from the back of the store.

"Jaqueline!" Mrs. MacDonald calls. "Bless my stars dear, is it really you?" She weaves through the tightly packed racks of repurposed vintage clothing and accessories and then emerges between two rows of dresses carrying a pair of heeled winter boots.

"I need those," I say without thinking. "They're gonna make me so hot!"

Alex coughs beside me, hand slipping from mine as he struggles to hide the red creeping up his neck.

"Who's this?" Mrs. MacDonald asks, handing me the boots. "I'm pretty sure those aren't your size."

"This is Alex," I answer. "And if they aren't my size, why are they in my hands?"

"I've seen you work magic before," is her only answer before turning to Alex. "Is there something I can help you find?"

He must be more flustered than I thought, because his eyes keep wandering to me like he's searching for reassurance and when I don't give it, he just says, "No. I'm fine, thank you ma'am."

"Are you sure, dear?" Mrs. MacDonald looks him over, pulling her ancient glasses down to the tip of her nose to get a better look at his attire.

"Yes," he answers. "Yeah, I'm fine."

I stuff my foot into the boot, thinking they're going to be too small, and for a second it seems like they will be. The width of the boot is small at the ankle and my less-than-dainty structure is not well-equipped for such a narrow entry point. My heel pulls at the fabric before relenting, sliding in the rest of the way as though the boots were made for me.

"Well, you were right," Mrs. MacDonald says, turning her attention back to me.

"I'm always right about what will fit me," I joke. But it's a lie. I spent a good ninety percent of my childhood trying to squeeze into things that were the wrong size because they were too cute to let go of. I would wear a shirt until it physically would not fit over my head anymore or until the seam split, whichever happened first.

"I meant they do make you look hot," she says. "Let's find you a skirt."

Alex's already rosy complexion threatens to win the local tomato contest for how beautifully round and red it is.

"I can do that," I answer, handing her the boots. "Alex is just being modest. He really does want help selecting clothes for our mysterious outing. Think indoors and outdoors, decent amount of walking, comfy and cute."

She nods. "I think we can do that."

Before I have time to think about it, she's pulling him through the store by his elbow, down to the back corner where she says there will be things in his size. She might be telling him the truth, but she's purposefully started in a section that very much does not contain plain tee-shirts.

She always has been quick to catch on.

I browse the skirts, coming up with a cute black number I can wear with the shirt I already have in the car. And then I just stand there and watch Alex slowly become overloaded with things Mrs. MacDonald thinks "will look simply devine on him." She calls him sweetie at least seven times and he doesn't even flinch.

And I'm still standing here staring at Alex and holding one tiny black skirt when they return.

Mrs. MacDonald is the only one capable of speaking apparently. "We're going to try these on, darling. Come with me. I need your style advice."

I thought Alex was going to turn so red at her comment that he'd blend in at a horror film, but he just smiles and says, "You have to come stop her. If I have to try this all on, we're going to be here until tomorrow."

"Fine." I follow him into the back where the change rooms are, collecting pieces that fall off the huge pile he's carrying as I do.

"I've set you up in two, Alex," Mrs. MacDonald doesn't even pause when we reach the back, ushering him and his huge pile of clothes into the small room with a floor to ceiling door.

Once the door is closed between them she puts her key into the lock of room one and swings it open. "And there you are, dear."

"Oh, uh... I..." Have lost the ability to speak, apparently.

"That's one skirt."

Thank you for pointing out the obvious. "Yeah, I'm just going to get this. It'll go with the top I have in the car and the boots I'm already buying."

"What's this now? Not a single thing in my store draws you in anymore? I must be losing my touch."

"I'm not sure I want to try things on."

"Why not?" She looks around, as though the answer will be written on the floor to ceiling mirrors.

Honestly I don't know why. Because using revealing clothes to get back at Luther feels like nothing, and wearing things that make me look hot is something I'm not willing to let go of, but testing how I look in things is a bit personal for a first date, I guess.

"If you're worried about what he's going to say, I have just the thing." She taps her nose like she's in a 1950s spy film and disappears into the front. Before Alex has even managed to change into an outfit, she's back with a dress. Lacey, purple, and tight. It's backless and has a plunging neckline complemented by long sleeves.

It's actually something old Jack wouldn't have considered. Not while she was with Luther.

But now...

"Just try it on, Jack."

I turn to face Alex, who has somehow slipped out of the change room without my noticing. "I can't. It won't go with the boots."

"I'll go back in there until you tell me to come out," he says. And somehow he's managed to read my mind. "You can wear a potato sack, Jack, and I'll still come with you."

And then he turns to face himself in the mirror and, like he hasn't just dropped a bomb on me, he grimaces, turns back to the change room and says, "I don't like this one. I'll try another. Tell me when it's safe to come out." And then he disappears back into room two, the door slamming closed with a thud.

"No excuses then, dear," Mrs. MacDonald says, pushing me and the dress into the room with the very large green one in the center and shutting the door between us. "Let me know when you're ready."

I look down at the dress in my hands. It's something I would love to wear but never had the confidence before. Maybe Luther will give me something good after all. Maybe spite for how he treated me will be what gives me the power to finally put this on.

But I can't muster that spite right now, all I can think is if Alex will like it.

What on earth is going on?

"Fine," I relent. "I'll try it on. Bring me shoes I can walk in."

"Open," she instructs. And when I do, she slides a pair of heels and a necklace through. "He's been eyeing that one all evening," she says, tapping the necklace, "if you care about that sort of thing."

It's becoming increasingly obvious I care about that sort of thing. Or more specifically, that particular thing. What Alex sees when he looks at me.

I shake off the thought, staring at myself at the mirror. I'm a warrior, and it's time to put on my armour.

This has nothing to do with Alex.

Almost nothing, anyway.

~ * ~ Author's Note ~ * ~ 

Well, as you might have seen, I've recently joined the Open Novella Contest with a chaotic amount of novellas. It took me a little bit to get all five covers and blurbs done, so I'm sorry this chapter is a couple hours late! 

I will continue posting chapters of A Kiss in Costume every two weeks for the next few months until we get closer to Halloween and then updates will become more frequent. 

I hope you're loving Jack and Alex and if you have some time, I'd be so grateful if you'd be willing to check out my ONC 2023 novellas on my profile authorelizasolares . 

Either way, thank you so much for reading and I'll see you in a couple weeks when we get to see where it is Jack is planning to take Alex.