Page 54 of Riding the Sugar High

“Still don’t care.” She cheerily walks to the small bench and removes the boots, and once she approaches the counter, I step in front of her. “I’ll pay for them. You’re buying them to stay at my farm.”

“But I’ll keep them once I’m gone.”

“But you wouldn’t be buying them if it wasn’t formymud.”

She elbows her way in front of me, then hands the cashier her card. I wouldn’t need more than a pinkie to move her out of the way, but I step back and let her pay.

We leave the shop and join the influx of people walking around the mall. While it always makes me uncomfortable to be in such a large crowd, it feels like everyone’s eyes are on me today.

“Think we can find a nice café in here?”

“I don’t want coffee.”

“Well, I do. And pastry—oh! Or cake!” She excitedly claps, then noticing my unimpressed gaze, bites her bottom lip expectantly. “Do you mind?”

This woman, I swear. Only because she’s pretty, with those thick thighs and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen, she thinks she can bat her lashes, and I’ll do everything she wants.

“Fine.”

Apparently, she’s right.

She rushes to the right, then darts inside the first café we find, and I lazily follow. When she asks about vegan options and gets told all they have is coffee, she’s out and on searching for the next one. I follow her to the next café, then to the next, and we keep receiving more of the same answers and curious looks. Until eventually, Primrose points at a small corner juice bar and shrieks. “That one! That must have something vegan!”

Gripping my arm, she leads me inside, then approaches the counter and asks the woman behind it to show us her vegan-friendly selection.

“Of course.” The brunette woman in a green cap wipes her hands on a kitchen towel. Everything you see in this tray is vegan. We have cakes, cookies, and a couple of slices of pie.” She points at the board behind her. “And all the drinks marked with the leaf are vegan, too.”

“So many options,” Primrose says with a cocky grin as she turns to me. “We’d nearly given up when we found you, but I was determined to find something for him.”

“I’m Cassidy,” the woman says as she looks up at me. Her smile softens, and her eyes stick to mine longer than I’m comfortable with. “I’m vegan too.”

Great.Now she thinks we’re instant buddies. Why is Primrose making friends with some random café worker?

“Primrose. And he’s Logan,” Primrose says. “Don’t be fooled by his chattiness; he’s quite moody.”

When I glare, she gestures at me as if to show Cassidy this is what she meant.

“So, Logan, what can I get you?”

“Uh...a black coffee.” Primrose’s eyes widen dangerously, so I add, “And a slice of blueberry pie.”

“And for you?”

I look away from Cassidy, who keeps glancing at me even as she takes Primrose’s order.

“Okay, I’ll warm up your pie and bring it out. You guys can take a seat.”

“I’ll pay,” I rush to say. Primrose has already spent money on the boots, and I don’t like feeling indebted to people. But I probably spoke with too much intensity, because Primrose takes a small step back with wide eyes.

“I’ll wait at the table.”

She walks to the back of the shop, and I approach the cashier. “Eighteen dollars,” Cassidy says.

I take out my card, then tap it on the card reader.

“I haven’t seen you around here before, have I?”

“Uh, no.” The card reader buffers. “I hate malls.”

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