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"Definitely not," Evan growled in response, letting himself be tugged along after Chel. All of a sudden he was surrounded by pink and the scent of a thousand dead flowers, and he wondered if it was too late to pull the plug on this whole operation.

He stared forlornly after Chel as she just abandoned him there in the middle of the store, lost and pointedly ignoring the stares and whispers of other store patrons as he slunk off in the opposite direction. There was a fine line between charming and creepy, and Evan was sure he passed it as he started looking through a random rack of bras. He had no idea what he was looking for, or even at--his attention was mostly on Chel, and he didn't know anything about women's underwear except the best way to take it off of a woman.

Belatedly, Evan wondered if Chel had just brought him along so he could carry her bags. He wouldn't have been surprised--or unhappy, as long as he got to see her in this frilly crap later.

Evan huffed an exasperated sigh. "If I'm in here as your pretend boyfriend, hitting on other girls would make me look like a cheater and an a*****e. If I'm not, then I'm just some creepy guy who likes women's underwear. Neither of these scenarios are exactly good ways to meet girls."

He paused to look down at the items in Chel's hands. "I definitely wouldn't mind helping you try things on, though. You know, to make sure everything fits." Commence shameless eyebrow waggling.