Page 17 of Older

I swallowed hard, gritty shards of shame scraping the back of my throat. “I fell down the stairs. Clumsy.”

He frowned. “You sure?”

“Hard to forget face-planting at the bottom of a staircase.” Touching two fingertips to the ugly canvas of colors, I wished I could erase the evidence with one quick brushstroke. “You saw those clunky heels I wear. They’re a death trap.”

Reed ran his tongue along his upper lip, studying me. Analyzing another lie.

I stared at his tongue, and he stared at my tarnished face.

Someone bumped into me, and I stumbled forward against Reed, catching myself by latching onto his bicep.

The guy mumbled gruffly, “Sorry. Need a cart.”

Reed placed his hand on the small of my back to steady me, and I soaked up his warm touch like it was the sun on my skin after a yearlong winter. Then we both moved away from the collection of carts as he finally lowered his hand.

I hovered beside him, clearing my throat and pulling off my hat to smooth down my hair.

His eyes flicked to the golden tresses spilling over my shoulders before he dipped his attention away and hunched over the cart, his forearms on the handlebar.

He started walking.

I reached for my own cart and pushed it in the opposite direction, an awkward goodbye teasing my tongue.

But before I could say anything, he gestured toward the produce aisle with a quick head-nod. “We can shop together.”

The invitation froze me. I hesitated for a beat before my legs found their courage and carried me toward him. My eyes lingered on the back of his leather coat as he pushed forward, swerving between frenzied shoppers tossing last minute items into their carts. I wasn’t sure what to say. My internal thoughts were a web of apologies, conversation starters, and more apologies.

I went with something dumb. “Do you like perogies?”

Reed glanced at me over his shoulder as I attempted to maneuver my car to his right side. “Almost as much as peanut butter.”

Apparently, he recalled my penchant for random food-inspired questions.

“I love them. My mother was Polish, so when I was a little kid, my Nana would make perogies every Christmas Eve.” I blinked, catching myself. “I mean, she’s still Polish. That doesn’t ever go away.”

I was rambling and we both knew it.

“Anyway…she died, so it’s been a while since I’ve had perogies.” My cheeks puffed with a full breath. “Nana died. Not my mother.”

I was a mess.

Cheeks heating, I clenched my teeth to keep my mouth from opening again. I should cut my losses, apologize to him, and scram.

Reed swung his cart toward the frozen food aisle. “Let’s grab perogies. Then you can help me pick out a gift,” he said. “It’s for a girl. I already got her a purse, but I felt like I needed something else…maybe a gift card?”

All I heard was girl.

My heart wilted pathetically. “Okay, sure. That would be cool.”

It wasn’t cool.

It felt like a rusty nail had been hammered through my stupid, infatuated heart, which was beyond delusional. I was seventeen years old and he was thirty-four, and just because we shared one night together at Jay Jennings’ lake house, didn’t mean he was waiting around for me, checking off the days on his calendar until I became old enough to pursue in good conscience.

Refusing to let him see what a ridiculous teenager I was, I held my head high and pretended to be immune. “What does she like?”

He scratched his head as we stared at a row of fog-laden freezer doors, eyeing the Tombstone pizzas and TV dinners. “She really likes her dog.”

“I love dogs.” It was pointless to say—this wasn’t about me. “You could get her one of those photo-frame ornaments shaped like a dog, and she could put his picture inside.”

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