Chapter 11
11
TUCK
“ Y ou’re in a bad mood.” Those are the first words out of my mouth when Olivia steps into our tutoring room.
“No, I’m not,” she replies instinctively, before furrowing her brow and arching an eyebrow. “What makes you think so?”
“I can tell. You’re grumpy.”
“That’s just because I have to spend the next forty-five minutes in your company,” she shoots back. But there’s no bite to her words. They’re lighter than they usually are when she throws a verbal jab at me. Almost playful.
I try not to smile when I pick up on it.
“Nope,” I reply, shaking my head. “It’s not that. You have a specific kind of scowl when you’re in a bad mood because of me.”
A huff whooshes out of her—but, again, it’s not a sharp huff. It’s almost like she tried to disguise a laugh.
“What are you,” she asks, “a scowl expert now?”
I just nod. “As a matter of fact, I am. Now that I’m besties with Hudson, I’ve become a master scowl interpreter. Just like how an expert bird watcher can look at two different birds that seem identical to the untrained observer, yet know that they’re in fact totally different species.”
“You’re ridiculous,” she says, but this time there’s no way she can hide the half smile on her lips. My chest squeezes at the sight of it.
“But I’m right. Come on, spill the grumpy beans. We can’t have a productive tutoring session while you’re preoccupied like this.”
She blows out a breath that she wants me to think is of exasperation, but I know it’s really just supposed to mask a laugh. “I’m just a little … hangry, is all.”
“Hangry?” I repeat, making myself sound mortified. I push my chair back from the table and stand up. “We have to get you food. You can’t get through a forty-five-minute tutoring session while you’re hangry.”
“Sure I can,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Besides, I’m hangry for a very specific snack that I’ve had a weird hankering for all day, and it wasn’t in stock at the convenience store when I stopped by on the way.”
“What is it?” I ask.
“Those Pretzel M&M’s.” She lets out a laugh. “Stupid, right?”
I shake my head, a grave expression on my face. “There’s nothing stupid about being hangry over a very specific snack craving. This is a deadly serious situation, Lockley. We have to get you those Pretzel M&M’s.” With that, I’m striding towards the door, like I’m The Terminator and nothing in the world can keep me from carrying out my mission.
“We can’t waste a tutoring session traipsing around town looking for Pretzel M&M’s,” Olivia objects. “Your next essay is due next week, and we need to review your outline.” She crooks an eyebrow at me. “You did make the outline, right?”
“Of course I did,” I answer. “And you’ll be very impressed with it. Trust me, I’m not going to have an issue finishing this essay. Your advice from Monday helped a ton. We’re already five minutes early, so we have fifty minutes. We’ll take my car, it’s in the parking lot right next to the building. We’ll be back with time to spare.”
Olivia looks to the side, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. I can tell I’m tempting her.
I really like the idea of tempting Olivia Lockley, even when it’s over something as silly as this.
“Fine,” she folds, her hangry-ness winning out.
I pump my fist in triumph. “Let’s go.”
About a minute later, I’m in the driver’s seat of my Mercedes with Olivia Lockley right next to me in the passenger seat. I’ve already accepted I’m down bad for this girl, but it’s almost a little concerning just how good something as simple as having her in my car feels.
Fuck, imagine how good it would feel to really have her in this car—in the back seat …
I pump the breaks on that thought.
We’re on a mission: satisfying Olivia’s hangry-ness. I’ll let myself indulge in thoughts of backseat shenanigans with Olivia later tonight.
“Let’s try the gas station on the other side of town,” I suggest as I start the engine. “They’re always filled to the brim with snacks.”
“Good idea,” Olivia answers as she snaps on her seatbelt. Then she turns to me with a worried expression on her face. “Please don’t tell anyone I said good idea to you. Especially not Summer. I’ll never live it down.”
I wiggle my eyebrows. “We’re keeping secrets from our friends now? That’s kinda hot.”
She rolls her eyes and arcs her head away from me. “You’re ridiculous.”
That’s the second time today she’s called me ridiculous. Is it weird that I like it?
“Mhm.” Before pulling out of my parking space, I sync my phone with the radio. “Alright, you get to pick the first Taylor Swift song. What’s your favorite?”
“I don’t have a favorite,” she answers.
I turn my head to her, drilling her with a knowing glare. “Bullshit. Everyone has a favorite Taylor Swift song.”
She shrugs. “Not me.”
I know she’s full of shit. So, I just keep looking at her. I can tell that my gaze is slowly burning through her defenses. “I can’t start driving before I queue up the first Taylor Swift song of the ride, and it has to be your favorite. Because I know you have one.”
Her cheeks color lightly with embarrassment, which makes my lips tilt upward. Olivia is so guarded, to the point where she holds back even from something like sharing a favorite song.
She’s just the type who likes to keep things close to her chest. Which is funny, because she’s able to pour out the most emotional performances on stage, with a packed audience’s attention riveted to her.
“Alright,” she admits defeat after a couple beats of my gaze burning on her expectantly. “ Mr. Perfectly Fine .”
I hoot. “Knew you had a favorite T. Swift song.” I turn on the song and turn up the volume, belting out the lyrics as we pull out of the parking lot and onto the road.
We get through Mr. Perfectly Fine and one more song before pulling into the gas station parking lot.
“Alright,” I begin as I roll to a stop, using the same voice I do when I’m drawing up hockey plays with my team. “We have to be efficient. When we get in there, you check out the snacks they have displayed by the register. I’ll check the candy aisle.”
This time she can’t hide a smile and a tiny laugh that bubbles from her curled lips. The sound makes my chest pang. I could very quickly grow addicted to hearing Olivia Lockley’s laugh.
“Yes, sir,” she says. Her words are sarcastic, but her calling me sir … fuck, it does something to me. I clamp down on my desire so that I’m not walking through this gas station with a tent pitched in my pants.
We follow the game plan when we’re inside. She heads towards the registers while I make a beeline to the candy aisle. And when I get there … I spot them.
A display case full of Pretzel M&M packets, right on the shelf in front of me.
I open my mouth to call out to Olivia—but then I stop.
We’ve got plenty of time left. And I’m enjoying this silly little adventure with her way too much.
We can afford one more stop and still get back to the tutoring center with plenty of time to spare. I genuinely think my outline is really good, and there won’t be much for us to go over today, anyway.
The big grocery store on the other side of town will definitely have some in stock, too. Then Olivia and I will have more time hanging out together in my car. And we’ll get to wander around a grocery store together …
Man, what’s with me? Why does the thought of wandering around a grocery store with this girl make my heart sing like a hummingbird?
It does, though. And now that the thought’s been planted in my mind, it only grows more appealing.
“You find any?” Olivia asks as I walk out of the candy aisle towards her, empty-handed.
I should feel bad when I lie to her, “Nope. All out here, too.”
But I don’t.
At the end of the day, she’s still going to get her Pretzel M&M’s, just ten minutes later than she would have otherwise. And I’ll get to spend more time with her. Win-win.
“Darn it,” Olivia grumbles. “Now I’m even more in the mood for them.”
“Let’s go to Wambley’s,” I say. It’s the big grocery store on the other side of town. “They’re definitely going to have some in stock.”
She purses her lips thoughtfully for a beat. “I should say no so we can get back to our tutoring session. But I really want those M&M’s now …” Indecisiveness flashes across her face for a moment, but it doesn’t take long for her cravings to win out. “Alright, let’s go.”
The slight twinge of guilt I feel about my little white lie washes away when I’m back in my car next to her. There’s nothing wrong with a lie for the greater good, right? Because even though she won’t admit it, I know that Olivia is enjoying this little adventure, too.
Shit. How can they be out of Pretzel M&M’s here?
Wambley’s has a reputation for stocking everything. For as long as I’ve lived in Cedar Shade, I’ve literally never had something I was in the mood to eat, and not found it when I came here.
Until now.
Guilt pricks at the nape of my neck. Now it’s my fault that Olivia’s Pretzel M&M craving isn’t going to be satisfied.
Olivia lets out a disappointed sigh as we stand right in front of the display case where every flavor of M&M’s are stocked to the brim, except the pretzel kind.
“Oh, well,” she shrugs. “We tried our best.”
I offer to buy her as many of the other flavors as she wants, but she declines, saying that her craving is very specifically for the pretzel flavor, and she’s not in the mood for anything else.
My chest sinks as I sling my hands into my pockets. We walk disappointed back down the aisle. “How the hell did they have every other flavor in stock, but zero pretzel ones?”
But then, as we turn towards the front of the store where all the registers are, I spot the answer to my question.
One guy is holding a single shopping basket, which is piled high with bags of Pretzel M&Ms.
I nudge Olivia and direct her attention to him. “I’m not seeing things, right?”
“Holy shit!” she whisper-shouts. “Who needs that many Pretzel M&M’s?”
“For real. I know I shouldn’t judge, but I’m judging.”
Olivia shrugs. “Early bird catches the worm, I guess.”
Nah. I’m not ready to accept defeat that easily. I walk towards the guy, Olivia following behind me tentatively.
“Hey, buddy,” I greet him when I’m by his side. “Looks like you got all the Pretzel M&M’s. You mind sparing a pack or two for us? We came all the way here just for ‘em.”
He turns his head. His eyes elevator me with an icy, distinctly unfriendly glare. “I’m not your buddy. And no. They’re mine.”
Then he turns his head forward again and takes a step forward as his line moves up, brushing me off like I was nothing more than a mosquito he’s shoeing away.
Unlucky for him, I’m not ready to accept defeat that easily, either.
Time to bring out the big guns. Tug on his heartstrings. I know Olivia’s not going to like the strategy I have in mind, but it’s for the greater good. For her greater good.
“Please, sir. My girlfriend,” I tilt my head back in Olivia’s direction, “she’s pregnant.” I have to fight a smirk as I hear Olivia suck in a dismayed gasp behind me. “She’s not showing yet, but the weird cravings are already hitting her hard. And she needs some Pretzel M&M’s. You know how it is.”
The same unfriendly eyes drill into me. This time, his expression is accompanied by a haughty scowl.
“Girlfriend?” he utters the world disdainfully. “Back in my day, people got married first. Maybe if you were able to plan your life better, you wouldn’t have a knocked-up girlfriend, and you’d have the food you needed without having to beg people standing in line.”
Okay, fuck this guy.
Initially, my next plan was to offer him money to give me a pack of those M&M’s if the pregnant girlfriend strategy didn’t work. Now that I know what a shit-head this guy is, though, I have zero scruples playing dirty.
“Holy shit!” I jump half a step back, bulging my eyes like I’ve just seen something shocking, pointing across the store.
The ploy works. The Pretzel M&M hoarder instinctively whips his head in the direction of my jutted-out finger. While he’s looking away, I quickly and deftly snatch a handful of M&M packets out of his bag, immediately passing them behind me to Olivia.
To her credit, she picks up what I’m laying down immediately, grabbing them from me and holding them behind her back, angling her body behind mine for extra secrecy. All this is accomplished in half a second, before the guy turns his head back to me, his eyebrows drawn low and his annoyed scowl carved even deeper.
“Huh,” I say, tilting my head. “Thought I saw something over there. Guess not.”
With that, I quickly turn away, careful to keep my body between Olivia and the guy’s line of sight so he doesn’t have a chance to see the bounty she’s holding, rightfully pilfered from him.
We hurry to the self-checkout section.
“ Four bags!” Olivia whispers in excitement, her eyes wide as she glances at me. She’s looking at me like she’s impressed. I have to admit, I like it. I like it a lot.
With our surplus of Pretzel M&M’s, I grab a bag for myself and open it once I’m seated in my car. I pop one in my mouth, and I don’t know why, but it’s just about the best thing I’ve ever tasted when I bite down on it.
“Damn, these are good,” I say.
“Mhm,” she mumbles appreciatively. “Nothing like satisfying a craving.”
I bet. There’s one craving I have when it comes to Olivia Lockley that I bet would feel otherworldly to satisfy.
But you know what? As true as that is, right now, I don’t even dwell on it.
Just sitting next to her in my car, singing Taylor Swift songs while I shove junk food in my mouth as we drive back to the tutoring center—this feels pretty damn otherworldly, too.