Chapter 4
Four
22 weeks pregnant
Baby is the size of a red bell pepper
Penny: Girls night?
Aspen: Yes please!
Penny: Tequila and margs?
Aspen: You know the way to my heart
Aspen: I’m free after I close up for the day!
Penny: Boone better watch out! I’m coming for ya
Penny: I’m ready to FEAST and DRINK
Aspen: Theo? What do you think?
Penny: Earth to Theooooo
I t was mid-afternoon, and that meant one thing: time for a snack run. Since nothing at home could satisfy this craving, I headed to the pharmacy for something different.
Buying food here was always a gamble, you ran the risk of snagging something expired. I’d learned that the hard way. For me, convenience often won out over quality.
I stood in front of the snack aisle, tapping my finger against my chin as I surveyed my options. The bags on the top shelf were slightly faded from the harsh fluorescent lights, a clear sign to steer clear of those, a trick I learned from being a regular.
When I’d left the house, I was craving something sweet—maybe a chocolate bar or kettle corn. Standing here now, surrounded by brightly colored bags, my baby and I decided salty and spicy was the way to go.
I grabbed the last bags of Flaming Hot Cheetos, along with some Hot Fries and Takis, clutching them tightly against my chest like someone might try to steal them from me. Over my dead body. I’d protect these with every fiber of my being.
“Why are you white-knuckling six bags of chips?”
The voice startled me, and I spun around, ready to fight, chest-to-chest with a man, a very tall and sturdy man.
My eyes trailed up from his broad chest, which was right at my eye level, to a pair of green eyes staring back at me. I’d recognize those anywhere. I stepped back, suddenly too close for comfort.
“Seriously,” I quipped, smirking. “We need to stop meeting like this. I’m starting to think you’re following me. Or are you here to stock up on your weekly value pack of condoms?”
I hoped the joke sounded casual because, suddenly, I felt embarrassingly self-conscious about my snack hoard. Rhodes’s eyes lingered on the absurd pile of bags in my arms.
Was it insecurity or nerves? Rhodes looked good today—too good. His hair was tucked under a backward cap, and he wore a long-sleeve sun shirt that clung in all the right places. His dark-wash jeans were worn, and his boots caked with dirt. Not my usual type but, it was working on me.
He held up a small white pharmacy bag.
“I’m just here to pick up my meds,” he said with a smirk, shaking the bag lightly so the pills rattled inside. “Thanks for the reminder about the condoms, though. I’ll grab them on my way out.”
My face instantly heated, and my palms grew clammy. Good job, Theo. Way to be an ass .
“I’m so insensitive,” I muttered, unable to meet his eyes. I needed a T-shirt that read World’s Biggest Asshole with two arrows pointing at me.
“Don’t worry about it,” Rhodes said, dipping his head to catch my gaze. “It’s not something I’m embarrassed by, mental health needs to be talked about.”
When I finally looked back at him, his perfectly pink lips curved into a lopsided smile. His reassurance did little to calm the frantic thudding of my heart.
“I shouldn’t have assumed,” I stammered. “That was an asshole move.”
Rhodes shrugged. “Now you know.” He nodded toward the snacks I was still clutching. “What’s going on there? I’m sensing a theme.”
I let out a scoff, followed by a self-deprecating laugh. “I came here craving something sweet, but when I saw the bright yellow and red Cheetos bag, my mouth started watering. Lately, spicy always wins the craving war.”
Rhodes hummed thoughtfully. “I make a pretty good spicy pasta.”
“Are you a good cook?” I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.
Rhodes tilted his head. “Good is subjective. I like to think I have a few signature dishes. Spicy pasta happens to be one of them.”
A pause stretched between us. Was he offering to cook for me? Or just making conversation? Either way, pasta sounded amazing.
“You could come over one night, and I’ll make some for you,” he offered, his smile widening.
“Oh, please!” The words slipped out before I could stop them, sounding way too eager. Internally, I cringed, my subconscious seemed to be rooting for this.
Rhodes reached into his back pocket and handed me his phone. I took it gingerly. I felt like I had too much power. His lock screen was a picture of him and his friends, arms slung around one another and grinning wide. How sweet.
Swiping up, his phone immediately unlocked. Who didn’t lock their phone these days? That was borderline psycho behavior in my book.
I typed in my contact info and sent myself a quick text so I’d have his number, too, and then handed it back.
“You even put your last name in here?” he teased, shaking his head. “We’re already friends. No need for formalities.”
“Noted,” I said, smiling down at my feet.
There was something about Rhodes. His presence felt effortless yet magnetic, like low stakes with a high reward. He was practically a stranger, someone I’d been around a handful of times and knew very little about. I should feel timid, scared to be so open but that seemed impossible around him.
“Do you need anything else, or are you all set?” Rhodes asked, his tone light, easy—completely free of judgment.
I nodded, then immediately second-guessed myself.
Actually…
I spun on my heel, heading toward the next aisle. “Wait. I should grab something sweet. Just in case.”
Rhodes followed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he watched me scan the shelves.
Finally, I grabbed a big bag of kettle popcorn and turned back to him, victorious.
“Now I’m ready.”
His lips twitched like he was fighting back a grin. “Good to know you take snack decisions very seriously.”
“Only the important ones.” I clutched the bag to my chest like it was a prized possession. “Besides, you never know when a craving for something salty and sweet is gonna hit.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” he teased, waving a hand for me to go first.
He stuck with me through checkout, then followed me out to my car, the comfortable silence between us making my chest feel… weirdly warm .
At my driver’s side door, Rhodes reached out, pulling it open for me.
I hesitated—just for a second—because for someone who prided herself on independence, I had an undeniable soft spot for chivalry.
“I’ll, uh, see you soon?” Rhodes asked, almost hesitantly.
I nodded, biting back a smile as I tucked a pigtail behind my back and climbed into my car.
When I glanced up again, he was leaning against his truck bed, arms crossed, watching to make sure I pulled away safely.
And, okay… that made my chest ache a little.
By the time I got home, I was a puddle of emotions thinking about my interaction at the store. Rhodes was kind. Gentle. Thoughtful. Typically traits I stayed far away from. And those green eyes? A whole other level of trouble.
I sprawled out on my bed with snacks spread around me, and queued up a true crime documentary. No matter how much I tried to focus, my thoughts kept circling back to him.
He seemed interested in me which made me nervous. Men didn’t have that effect on me, in fact, they were typically the ones quaking in my presence. I was to the point and often clear on my expectations. A woman who set things straight tended to send men running.
I’d been confident in who I was but lately, I was starting to question a lot about who I really wanted to be.
At some point, with my thoughts distracted, I grabbed my phone, hovering over Rhodes’ contact. Should I text him? Call? Wait for him to text first? I was overthinking this and I wasn’t an overthinker.
Before I could decide, my screen lit up with his name flashing in big, black letters. Was he reading my mind?
I squealed, tossing the phone onto my bed like it shocked me and covered my face. When the buzzing stopped, I cautiously picked it up, only for it to buzz again. A voicemail.
Not only did he leave his phone unlocked, called instead of texted–he left voicemails too? That should’ve been a red flag but it was oddly refreshing.
I hesitated, then hit play.
“Hey, Theo. It’s, uh, me, Rhodes. You already know that, so I don’t know why I said it. I was calling to follow up about dinner sometime. I guess… give me a call back. See ya.”
The message ended with a soft click, and I instantly wanted to replay it. Rhodes was adorable.
Contradicting every ounce of badass energy I’d tried to channel earlier, I sent him a text instead of calling back.
Theo: Sorry for missing your call! I had my phone on silent. I listened to your message. I’d love to come over for dinner!
Why was I so affected by this? I didn’t like the feelings of anticipation and anxiety that short-circuited my system.
Rhodes: Cool! What times and days work best for you?
I was free all the time. I had so much free time. Maybe I shouldn’t answer right away, or maybe I should tell him I’ll have to check my schedule. Exactly, add some mystery.
Theo: Let me check and get back to you!
Rhodes:
Why didn’t I say yes and be done with it? Nerves took over and controlled my actions. Tilting my head back and letting out a deep groan, I locked my screen and tossed my phone as far away on the bed as I could.