Page 96 of Speak of the Devil

“I’ll be quick.” I pull away, the tip of our fingers the last contact shared before we’re out of reach.

He shoves his hands in his pockets, probably able to read every naughty thought I was having about him. As soon as I round the corner to the nearest aisle, I rush to the back of the store.

I reach the counter and lift to see if I can find anyone working. A man walks from a back room with his eyes on a pill bottle. His eyes spy me over the top of his glasses, and he detours in my direction. “How can I help you?”

“Hi, I had my prescription transferred to this pharmacy this morning.”

He starts typing on a keyboard. “Name?”

“Catalina Farin. It was transferred by?—”

“Yes, I see it here.” He shifts back in front of me, and says, “Unfortunately, we’ve had to order it. We should get it in with deliveries this Tuesday.”

“It’s Saturday,” I say, like I need the confirmation. “I don’t understand. In LA, they’d have it ready in an hour. We’re not even three hours away from the city.”

“You do have that option.”

“Of going to LA to pick it up?”

“I’m sorry. We’re a small pharmacy. We can’t carry everything, and it’s a holiday weekend. I can offer you a different type. We have samples.” He opens his drawer and starts rummaging through it. He’s offering me birth control shoved in a catchall drawer? This is an adventure indeed, and not the good kind. “Let’s just make sure they’re not out of date.”

“It’s hormonal.” He knows this already as a pharmacist, so it’s an odd suggestion. I glance at the wall to the right of me covered in a hundred varieties of fishing lures, wondering how they can carry so much of the same thing but not one of the most popular brands of birth control in the country. Their different priorities have my thoughts racing to figure out another plan since this one didn’t work out. “I can’t just switch for a few days.”

“I understand, but there’s nothing else I can do to speed up the delivery. They only come twice a week, but the good news is that your prescription will be on the next truck.” He uses his whole hand to point as if that’s less adamant. “If you need something immediate, prophylactics are on aisle four.”

And on that note . . .“Thank you.”

Me being upset isn’t going to get me what I need. I walk down aisle four, grabbing a small box of condoms just in case. I don’tmind going old-school, but this will throw my whole month out of whack. I grab a variety of candy bars and a bottle of Gatorade because I can’t just show up at the register with condoms. I mean, I could, but yeah . . . no.

When I reach the front of the store, Shane waits for me with a bag of hot ’n’ spicy fried pork skins in one hand and a big bottle of orange juice in the other. “That doesn’t look like health shots.” I laugh, though it’s only surface, me smiling for him as I try to sort through this prescription mess in my head.

He’s smiling the moment he sees me. The man knows how to make a girl swoon. “I don’t think we’re surprised they didn’t have any.” His gaze dips to all the crap I grabbed on my way up here. “Get everything?”

I start for the register, whispering when I pass him, “We need to talk outside.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

I stop before I feed into the line and turn back. “It’s nothing about us. I have a little situation that needs to be handled.”

“That sounds worse.”

“It’s fine. Really.” I don’t sound convincing even to myself. “We’ll just talk outside.”

“Are you okay, Cat?” I hate that he’s worrying over me. He has enough to worry about from his own life. This is supposed to be a break for him. Not a dose of reality that I would typically handle on my own. But I can’t. We’re here together, so I reply, “It’s okay. For real.” I dump all the stuff on the grocery belt. “I’m okay.”

He sets his stuff down and pulls his wallet out. “I’m buying.” He eyes the stuff I want, and says, “Why do we need condoms?” Alarm bells fire in all directions when I see him pick up the box. Shooting me a glare, he opens his mouth and closes it, then opens it again. “Small?” Offense sews his brows together in irritation. “What the fuck?”

I whip my gaze to the box just as the cashier starts ringing our order. Flustered, I scan the words on the front. “I wasn’t looking at the size. I just grabbed it.”

“What is going on, Cat?” Shortness clips his tone, and then he tells the cashier, “We won’t need these. Thanks.”

“We do need those.” I try to calm the distress in my voice, but it’s not working. “Just get a bigger size.”

“You’re on the pill.”

“I need birth control, Shane,” I shout in a panic.Oh God.The ringing stops as I close my eyes, hoping the earth opens us and swallows me whole. When I open my eyes to find I’m still stuck here at the Deer Lake Grocer with a gob-smacked cashier and a manager who seems to have nothing better to do than stare at me, I turn to bury my head in his chest. “I don’t have any with me.”

His arm comes around me as he pulls his wallet out to pay with the other. The cashier asks, “Do you want the condoms or put them back?”

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