Chapter 9
Cameron’s roar rattles the walls like thunder rolling through the apartment. I definitely did not think he’d be out of his room anytime soon, but I guess he’s out there now and I have to listen to him.
“Brie!” he roars again, and I can feel the walls of the room vibrate.
I wince, biting down on the last bite of the chocolate bar I’d swiped from the fridge.
Well—one of the last bites. Okay, fine, the very last bite, considering I raided everything edible in the man’s fridge.
The leftover pasta, the yogurts, even that suspicious-looking pickle jar shoved in the corner.
My stomach is smug and satisfied, but judging from the way Cameron stomps across the floor, his mood is the exact opposite.
He’s just going to have to deal with it because I just saved us a whole week of having almost expired food lounging in the fridge begging to not be wasted.
I pat my mouth with the back of my hand and shuffle out of my bedroom, trying to look as innocent as humanly possible.
“What’s up?” I chirp, leaning on the banister like I’ve just wandered down from a nap.
He stands in the middle of the open-plan living room, tall, broad, furious—hands planted on his hips, chest rising and falling like he just skated a full game in double overtime. His dark hair is disheveled, eyes narrowed on me like I’m some particularly irritating rookie.
“You ate everything.” His voice is sharp, clipped, the kind of bark that probably terrifies his teammates in a locker room.
I blink at him. “Not everything.”
“There is nothing left in the fridge, Brie. Nothing.” He throws his hands out, pacing a step, like he’s genuinely grappling with how any human could have consumed so much in such a short time.
“I stocked up the fridge a few days ago. I had enough stuff to last me for at least like ten days, if not more and somehow you’ve managed to finish everything in just two days, what are you? A mannerless cow?”
I fight a smile. “That’s a little dramatic. There’s still ketchup, and I’m not a mannerless cow, that’s going too far.” I try to hide my grin.
His jaw flexes. Oh, I’ve pushed the caveman too far.
“You’re right, you’re much more than a mannerless cow, you’re a cruel, self-centered human being who does not think about anyone but herself.
You should see a doctor.” He points a finger at me.
“Do you even realize how—no, you don’t. You don’t realize because apparently you think eating someone else’s groceries like a plague of locusts is normal behavior.
You should have your own things. Maybe then you can eat anyhow you want to without inconveniencing someone else. ”
I tilt my head, letting him rant. Watching him fume is like watching one of those fancy espresso machines hiss and puff until it spits out perfect foam. Entertaining, and somehow satisfying.
“You’re right,” I say finally, blinking up at him sweetly. “I should have my own things. In fact…” I lean closer, lowering my voice like I’m sharing state secrets. “…why don’t we go fix that?”
His eyes narrow suspiciously. “Fix what?”
“The food situation, dummy. Groceries. I’ll even let you come along.” I smile sweetly
“Come along?” His tone suggests I just invited him to shovel cow manure.
“Yeah. Bonding experience. Just you, me, and a shopping cart.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Do you hear me? I said no. What makes you think I’ll want to go anywhere with you? You’ll go to the store alone and replace everything you ate.”
“Well, I can’t remember what you had in there, but I hope you’re not lactose intolerant or into those healthy diets, because I’m getting a lot of unhealthy stuff.”
“Don’t you dare…”
I grin, stepping backward toward the door, snatching up my jacket. “You should come with me then…to keep me in check,” I wink, “Come on. You’ll thank me later. C’mon, Caveman. It’ll be fun.”
The look on his face is priceless—equal parts outrage and disbelief—but after a dramatic sigh and a muttered string of curses about “idiots” and “the unfairness of life,” he shoves his arms through his jacket and stalks after me.
Victory at last!
“We should use my car, it’s faster and the sooner we get to the store, the sooner I’d be completely done with you,” he says, already heading to his car.
“Uh, no?” I say, not making an effort to move from my vehicle of choice.
“What do you mean by no and why are you still standing there?”
“We should ride bikes there, it’ll be fun and—”
“Are you serious? Are you high? How exactly do you expect us to ride one bicycle to buy groceries? You know sometimes I think that you do things on purpose to get a rise out of me because there’s absolutely no way you just said this without thinking it through.”
“What do you mean by that? I just thought —”
He cuts in, “I do not care what you’re thinking at this point. Enter into the damn car or so help me God, I’m going to pick you up and chuck you in there.”
We have a stare down for a few seconds before I grin, “You would just like toss me in there?” I give him a little show of what it would look like.
He stares at me like I’ve gone crazy and shakes his head. He enters into his car and as soon as I hop inside, he starts to drive.
In the entire drive to the store, Cameron ensures that his grumble fills my ears. I did not think it was possible for someone to complain this much, but I guess to Cameron, it all comes easily.
“Why do humans need food every few hours? It’s inefficient.
” He clenches his fists on the steering wheel tightly.
It is so tight, and I honestly think the steering wheel is going to snap in two.
“I have a contract, a schedule, training sessions. And now I’m wasting precious time grocery shopping again. ”
I can’t help myself. I laugh. “You sound like a ninety-year-old accountant. Relax. It’s just groceries and besides it’s not like you were going to do anything else before now.”
“It’s a total waste of time. I should be doing my nighttime routine. I can’t believe you roped me into doing this with you, you were the one who finished everything, you should’ve done this yourself.”
“But this is way much fun, I have so many recipes to try out and—”
“I’m not interested in any of that, the last thing I want is a trip to the ER from food poisoning.”
“Hey! I hope you know that you’d starve without me. I haven’t seen you cook once since I’ve been here. The fridge was just full of snacks and take outs.”
“That shows you that I won’t starve, I’d just order takeout.”
“Every day?” I arch a brow. “Good luck keeping that athlete’s body on greasy burgers and fries.”
That shuts him up for a second, his jaw working as he stares out the passenger window. I almost feel bad. Almost.
I say, “Just so you know, you’ll be paying for everything. I haven’t gotten paid yet.”
He rolls his eyes, “I should’ve know that that’s why you wanted me to come so badly.”
I fake a gasp and hold a hand to my forehead, “Why would you think that? I want you here because this is perfect time for us to bond and you spending some money is just part of the experience.” I grin.
He shakes his head but does not say anything.
Inside the grocery store, the fluorescent lights hum above us as I grab a cart and start weaving through aisles. Cameron follows like I’ve chained him to the back bumper of a car.
“Cereal first or chocolate aisle?” I call over my shoulder with a grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll guide your lost soul.”
His scowl deepens.
When we pass the coffee section, his hand hovers protectively over the beans, almost reverent. Like some men clutch crosses in church.
“See?” I whisper, nudging him with my elbow. “Caveman found something he likes like a shiny rock.”
He shoots me a withering glare.
I grin wider and lean closer, whispering conspiratorially, “Relax, caveman. I’m harmless.”
“Don’t you have the concept of personal space?
There’s a bubble around me,” he draws a big one in front of me, “you can say whatever it is that you want to say to me without crossing that bubble. That’s respecting my personal space.
You don’t see me talk in your face all the time. ” He scowls, and I grin in response.
“Okeydokey, caveman,” I say and quickly hold his hand tightly. I watch in glee as he squirms and tries to remove my hand, but it just makes me laugh. I start playing around as he tries to get out of my hold.
An elderly woman in a floral cardigan pauses by her cart, watching us with that glimmer in her eyes—the one that says she’s about to unleash a compliment whether we want it or not.
“You two,” she says, her voice fond. “You remind me of me and my John when we were just married. All that handsy flirting. I mean I couldn’t keep my hands off him. Young love is the best.”
I freeze. For exactly three seconds with Cameron’s hand in mine. Then, slowly, a mischievous grin stretches across my lips.
“Oh?” I murmur, brushing my hand along Cameron’s arm. “That is so kind. He is my John. We are young and in love, aren’t we boo-boo bear?” I grin at Cameron. His eyes dart to me like daggers. My insides are dying with laughter.
His entire body goes rigid, and I can tell, he’s a few seconds away from exploding.
Poor little hot head. I tap the top of his head as I tiptoe.
The old lady beams. “Enjoy it, dear. Nothing sweeter than young love.” With that, she pushes her cart down the aisle, humming to herself.
I bask in the moment, deliberately stroking his arm, enjoying the warmth of his angry caveman madness he has going on.
“Never. Do. That. Again.”
I burst out laughing, bowing with exaggerated drama. “Lighten up. She was sweet.”
“I’m serious. I do not appreciate things like that and unless you’d really like to see the other side of me, then I suggest you start minding your ways.”
“The other side of you? How many sides are you? A fucking hexagon. Come on, lover.” I laugh and walk away.
I push the cart forward, tossing in a box of cereal. Cameron is looking through labels, focused on the protein section like he’s selecting diamonds instead of chicken breasts.
At first, I think I’m imagining it. The blatant stares coming from the people around me. A woman in the fruit aisle glances our way, then nudges her friend to look over. A man by the baked goods section, holds his phone too high to be “checking messages.”
“Uh, lover?” I murmur.
He doesn’t look up from the chicken label he’s reading. “Don’t call me that.”
“You need to see this.” I nod toward the young couple whispering by the apples.
“See what?” He drops two packs of chicken into the cart, wipes his hands on his jeans.
I mutter, “People. Looking at us.”
He exhales, annoyed. “Brie, don’t start. They’re probably just bored. Just focus on the things we came to buy, so we can leave. I have a lot of things to do tonight.”
I stop the cart, knowing that he means he wants to just sit at home and do nothing. I’m in no rush. “Look left.”
He doesn’t. He rubs his jaw instead, irritated by me. “Just keep moving. We need eggs.”
I grab his arm. “Cameron. Look.”
Finally, he follows my gaze. Three aisles down, a teenager is holding his phone way too steady, pretending to study the yogurt fridge. Cameron’s brow tightens. His hand goes straight to his pocket where his phone is buzzing. He ignores it.
I grab his arm, not liking the attention.
“You see it now, don’t you?” I whisper.
“Yeah.” His tone drops flat. “What did you do, I told—"
I glance at him. “So wait, you’re like a celebrity?”
His head whips around. “Didn’t you say you looked me up?”
I nod, staring back at people while I cling onto him. “You really are full of yourself. Can we please leave now?”
He looks down at me squirming. “You don’t like the spotlight?”
I shake my head.
“Not so enthusiastic after all, are ya?”
I think that’s the first joke he’s ever made, but the fact that strangers are filming us.
He runs a hand through his hair and groans. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before this turns into a circus.”
At the checkout line, more people notice him.
I look down at his legs and murmur, “Bend your knees a little.”
He doesn’t listen to me, so I widen my eyes to make him. He bends his knees, and his height drops by almost half a foot.
I nod. “Perfect. Now stay like that.”
He doesn’t listen as he helps bag the groceries.
In the parking lot, Cameron looks like a paranoid celebrity. He’s glancing around in every direction. Some people follow us out while filming us. I wave at them and grin as Cameron yells at me to get in the car.
On the drive back, it’s silent, even though I’m dying to know what’s going on.
“So––”
“Don’t,” he says sternly, holding that steering wheel tight again.
I blink. “Don’t what?”
He shakes his head.
“I had to get those Reese’s Sticks. It’s not every day that they’re on the shelf in the line. If you’re really that upset, I’ll share.”
“Can you be quiet for more than one minute?”
I scoff, folding my arms across my chest. “You are so rude.”
He scowls.
We get home and unload the groceries. I open up one of my Reese’s Sticks and start eating it. He can’t even look at me.
Whatever. His loss.
I get straight into work while caveman does whatever he does, and for the rest of the night, I don’t see him.
A blessing.