Twenty-Eight
Ameila
B efore I go to the store, I swing by the house to drop off the animals. I smile when I see a note on my whiteboard from Luke.
Dishwasher is clean, and the laundry needs to be switched before you head to the grocery store. I made a list of what we need on the counter for you . . . And don’t forget to call Noah :)
I shake my head as I walk over to the laundry room. I grab everything out of the dryer, put it in the empty basket, and take it to the room. Back in the laundry room, I plop everything in the washer—after a sniff test—into the dryer.
I grab my phone and shoot Noah a text, letting him know everything went fine and that nothing was off enough to note, but I was free if he wanted to talk.
I turn to the girls. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes, my loves.”
I climb into my Jeep, plug my phone in, and call Pam.
“Suuup.”
“Not much, just heading to the grocery store to pick up stuff we need,” I tell her as I back out of the driveway.
“Oh, you’re a we now.” She chuckles.
“Whatever, you hoe. He’s been doing most of the cooking, and he packs my lunch most days so I don’t forget to eat. The least I can do is the grocery shopping.”
“I might give you shit because it’s my job, but it’s really sweet. It’s about time you had someone take care of you as much as you’re willing to take care of them. Now for the more pressing information. Is the sex still good, or are you ready to kick him out?”
“I’ve thought about telling him that if he doesn’t want to stay anymore, he doesn’t have to. I feel like I took over his life, and I really don’t think anyone is intentionally harming the farm. However, I don’t have to fake an orgasm with him like I have with almost every other person I’ve slept with, so to be honest, the sex is fantastic.”
“I don’t know why you want to tell him he doesn’t have to stay with you anymore . . . You can just see how it plays out instead of fighting it.” She sighs.
Am I fighting it or being realistic?
I pause to gather my thoughts as I pull into the grocery store parking lot. “I just made it to the store in record time. It’s weird that we just kind of meshed together with our lives. He doesn’t judge me for anything, and he’s so supportive and caring. It’s . . . weird . . . and I don’t know if real life works like this,” I say as I get out of the Jeep.
I put my phone to my ear as I grab a cart and walk through the door.
“You mean like a normal fucking relationship? No one is perfect, but the fact that you’re blown away that someone you’re with can act like an adult breaks my heart all over again.”
I sigh. “I know, I’m trying. I have a therapy appointment tomorrow,” I tell her as I start going through my list and grabbing what I need.
Pam is venting about her dumbass office manager when I feel someone watching me, which is silly. I’m in a grocery store. But I look over my shoulder anyway, and nothing stands out.
“Wait, say that one more time. I was distracted.”
“Just that I think I’m going to switch from working at the practice to working at the hospital. I’ve been talking to some of the nurses in the ER, and I think I want to try it.”
“I think that’s a great idea. You’ll kick ass anywhere you are, and I know damn well you aren’t treated well at your office now by the—” I suck in a breath because I can’t believe my eyes.
At the end of the aisle, grabbing something from the sale endcap, is a man who looks like Leo, but he’s too skinny, wearing clothes that are slightly too big and look like they have been worn for far too long. With sunken eyes, half his face is covered in facial hair that looks like it hasn’t been cut in months.
“Amelia. I swear to god if you zoned out mid-conversation.”
I hear her, but I’m just frozen in place.
“What the fuck . . . Are you good? I swear to god, if you die, I will fucking reverse haunt you so hard,” she says. “For real, I need you to say something. Do you need me to call 911?”
“I swear to god Leo is standing at the end of the aisle,” I whisper.
“There’s no way. Are you sure? Why the fuck would he be in our small town? That city boy would rather eat nails.”
My eyes stay locked on the man at the end of the aisle. “Well . . . no, I’m not sure. He looks . . . not put together, and he has so much facial hair. So maybe not,” I say as the doubt creeps in.
Because she’s right, there’s no way he would be here in Griffin’s Den.
“I think you’re just worked up with everything. I can’t imagine that he’s here. He has no reason to be.”
“You’re right, unless he got transferred over here.” I flinch when someone near me drops a box of pasta on the floor.
“Are you almost done?”
“Yeah, I have three things left.”
Although the last thing I want to do is finish shopping. I want to leave my cart here in the middle of the aisle and just leave.
“Okay, grab them and check out.”
“I kind of want to just leave,” I admit as I grip the handle of my shopping cart so tightly my knuckles turn white. “That can’t be him, right? That would be stupid. There’s no way he’s here.”
He would never let himself go like that, and he would never step foot in a small town if it wasn’t for work.
“His social media is still pictures of DC as recently as two days ago. So, unless he’s traveling for work, it can’t be him,” she says.
“Wait, you still follow him on his socials?” I ask, slightly offended, grabbing the ranch from the shelf and tossing it into the cart.
“Well . . . kind of. He never blocked me. So I figured I’d keep it if we ever had to stalk him. You aren’t mad, right?”
I smirk because that’s one hundred percent something she’d do. “Nah, that makes sense. Okay, last thing acquired. Heading to check out.”
I make my way to the front of the store to the self-checkout.
“You know what’s nice? No one stopped to talk to me today,” I tell her as I scan the store, trying to see if the man is following me.
“Lucky bitch. I love most everyone in town, but I also try to shop when it’s slow for that reason.”
“Same. I planned my day around this.”
I scan the last thing and throw everything in my cart as I pay for the food.
“Oh, speaking of today, sorry I was rambling and didn’t ask how it went with the professor that came down,” she says.
“Fan-fucking-tastic,” I tell her and grab my receipt. “She took a ton of notes and gave great feedback and some new ideas, and what the fuck . . . why me?” I whisper as I walk to the exit.
“What! What! Tell me. I need to go to the store with you. I miss everything.” She groans.
“Brian just walked in and is giving me a death stare from the other side entrance.”
“Ew . . . Just walk out and load your Jeep up and dip out of there.”
“I am. Let me call you back later so I can load up faster.”
“Bye, bitch. I’ll be stalking your location to make sure no one takes you.”
“Trust me, no one wants to kidnap me,” I mumble.
Laughing, she says, “You’re probably right.”
“Fuck off. Bye.” I don’t give her a chance to say anything when she stops laughing as I hang up.
I half walk and half jog to my Jeep and load it up as quickly as possible because, like always, I bought more than I meant to.
I pull out of the parking lot and head home. I tighten my hand on the steering wheel to stop the shaking as I check all my mirrors, unable to shake the feeling that I’m being followed.