Page 165 of Riding the Sugar High

“I want to.”

She follows me into the store, but the usual bounce in her step is noticeably absent. “How about this?” I ask as I pick up a book with a dark cover that reminds me of one I’ve seen her read. “The Hollow House. Sounds intriguing, right?”

“I guess.”

“Or romance? Huh? You want another one of your spicy books?”

“What am I going to do with them now?” she mutters. “You won’t be there to take care of me.”

“You can handle it yourself.”

She pouts. “It’s not the same anymore. Not after you.”

Setting the book down, I turn to her with a sigh. “I know this is hard. Trust me, I’m not enthusiastic about it either. But we’ll talk on the phone every day, and we’ll text. And you’ll be so busy with your sweets and social media, you won’t even notice time passing before you’re here again.”

“Or I’ll be too busy getting my product off the ground. You’ll be too busy with the farm. We’ll talk for a while, then we’ll talk less. And then we’ll be stressed out and start fighting. Until, at some point, we’ll stop talking altogether because we can’t stand each other anymore. And I’ll never see this place again.”

“Don’t say that,” I scold. “You know it’s not true.”

“Itcouldhappen.”

“Barbie, you’re just in a shitty mood.”

She gives me a flippant shrug, and anger quickly boiling to the surface, I set the book back on the shelf.

“Okay, you want to fight? Would that help? Do you want me to scream at you and be an ass until you leave?”

She huffs out a light chuckle. “It might make it easier.”

“Fine. Then I’m choosing your books, and I don’tcarewhat you want.” I walk past her, ignoring her amused expression, then glance at the dozens of covers in front of me. “This one,” I say as I point at a pink one. “And that one,” I continue, this time not even bothering to check which one I’m pointing at. “Those are the books you’re getting. End of story.”

She hums, then grabs two different ones. “I want these.”

Her tone is softer now, her brows pulled together, and her lips curved into a mischievous smile.

This woman loves to push my buttons.

I’m going to miss her so much.

With a nod, I grab the two books and walk to the cashier.

“Thank you,” she says as I hand them to her.

“No problem. Ready to go?”

Her smile vanishes again, so I hold her hand. “Look, we still have those stairs over there, then a ten-minute walk before we get to security. We can fight a whole lot more.” I snap my fingers. “For example, you shed like a border collie. I won’t miss the blonde and pink hair all over my carpet.”

She chuckles, and happy with the result, I walk up the stairs. “You know what else I won’t miss?”

“What?”

“How you always put the milk carton back in the fridge even when it’s empty. Or—oh, your snoring. And you’re a total cover hog.”

“I don’t snore,” she mumbles.

“You do.” She doesn’t. She’s also the only one who drinks milk, so that was bullshit too. As for the covers, I guess that’s true, but I run hot at night, so I never keep them on. “Your turn,” I say as we reach the top of the stairs. “What are younotgoing to miss about me?”

“Uh, your, hmm...you...” She frowns, staring at the floor as we walk.

---