Chapter 6 #2
Cade steps forward, standing directly beside me. His woodsy scent tickles my nose as he reaches up and points. “If I might make a suggestion, get this one. It doesn’t burn like the cheap shit and doesn’t cost an arm and a leg like that one.”
I take in the brand he’s suggesting and nod. “Thanks,” I say, reaching for a bottle and then grabbing the strawberry mix on the shelf beside it.
When I have everything I need, I turn to face him and find his eyes sparkling. “So…taking Taco Tuesday to the boyfriend?”
His question makes me shift uncomfortably. “Not tonight.”
He seems genuinely surprised by my reply. “No?”
I lift my shoulders and shift on my feet once more. “He’s…busy.”
“Huh. So…you have no one to share Taco Tuesday with.”
“What if I’m still dating someone?” I ask.
“Are you?”
I open my mouth, fully prepared to lie, but that’s not what comes out. “No.”
Again, he seems shocked by my answer. “You’re not?”
“It’s a recent development,” I mutter, looking away as a new wave of anger washes over me.
“Well, then, tequila is the right choice, but not with that fruity mix. We’re doing shots,” he states, glancing around, like he’s searching for something.
“We?”
“Of course! I never let a girlfriend suffer by herself. We’ll curse him together.”
“I’m not your girlfriend, and I don’t need your help cursing him,” I counter.
“No, of course you don’t need my help.” He snaps his fingers. “We could do one of those boyfriend hexes, like a spell.”
“A what?” I ask, chuckling.
“It’s a thing.”
“If you say so,” I mumble, shifting my basket to my other hand since it’s getting heavy.
“I do. I know these things.”
Fighting a smile, I ask, “You know a lot about breaking up with a boyfriend?”
“Of course I do. I’m a boy and a friend. I’m better than a boyfriend, because I cause less bullshit. Plus, I’m usually better looking than a boyfriend, which helps a gal friend get over the douche faster.” He waggles his eyebrows and grins mischievously.
“How is that?”
“Because when you’re thinking about how good-looking I am, you’re not thinking about the asshole. See?”
I shake my head, not at all surprised by his antics. “Not really.”
He sighs, reaching into my basket and snatching the bottle of tequila. “Because I’m a good boy friend, I’m going to bring the tequila.”
“I don’t—”
“What do you say, Oaklee? Ready to banish his memory for good?” he asks, swinging the bottle of tequila in front of me.
“I…”
I shouldn’t, that’s for sure. Sharing tequila with Cade is the very last thing on the long list of things I should do this evening.
Well, maybe not the very last. That would be reconnecting with Lance.
But it’s not near the top. It falls after cleaning my entire apartment with a toothbrush and licking all the dirty dishes clean.
Yet…I’m considering it.
It’s as if Allison is standing beside me, whispering, “Do it, do it.”
“Come on, Oaklee. I pour a mean shot of tequila.”
“I have no doubt about it,” I mutter, wondering about the long line of brokenhearted women he probably has trailing in his wake.
He stands up straight and lifts his chin. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman. I won’t grab your ass or cop a feel. Unless you want me to.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “You’re incorrigible.”
“That’s code for amazing.”
I snicker at his obnoxiousness. “Fine, but we’re buying the mix too. I’m not downing a bunch of shots of tequila. I have to work tomorrow.”
“Fine, fine. One shot. We’ll banish the loser and then toast to your new boyfriend with margaritas.”
“You’re not my boyfriend.”
“Man friend? Yeah, I like that better. I’m all man, anyway.”
My eyes completely betray me, dropping to take in his jean-clad legs and fitted T-shirt that hugs every muscle he has.
“Eyes up here, Oaklee. You start objectifying your man friends and they’ll get the wrong idea,” he states with a wink. “Anything else you want with your nachos and tequila?”
I glance in my basket. “Cookies.”
“Done,” he replies, not even questioning the request. “I’ll be ten minutes behind you.”
My jaw drops open, ready to stop this entire farce, but nothing comes out.
“See you soon, Oaklee.”
Before I can say anything, he takes off to get cookies, holding a bottle of tequila. I watch him until he rounds the corner at the back of the store and disappears.
This is a huge mistake.
I should go find him, take the tequila I was planning to purchase, and head home.
Alone.
Yet, that’s not what I do. I slowly make my way to the register and place my basket on the conveyor belt. The young woman rings up my purchase, and without giving it a single thought, I swipe my card while she bags my groceries.
“Thank you,” I mutter, grabbing the two bags and heading for my Jeep.
As I place the two bags in the passenger seat and climb behind the wheel, I know exactly what I should do. I should wait for him to come out and decline his offer. This has bad idea written all over it with Sharpie marker.
But, again, that’s not what happens.
Instead, I put my Cherokee into reverse and back out of the spot. I drive a little faster to get home, hoping I have a few extra minutes to pick up and freshen up before he gets there.
Wait.
Just as I pull onto the main route through town to head to my little rental house, something hits me.
How in the world does he know where I live?