I feign shock but inside, I’m a screaming, nervous, and sweating mess.
His warm gaze lights up like he’s happy to run into me.
While I feel like the world’s biggest hypocrite for using him for my own selfish motives.
“I’m beginning to think you’re secretly a damsel in distress, Iris,” he teases, letting my wrist go to insert his hands in his pockets. Rocking back on his heels, he flirtatiously asks, “Or is this your way of hitting on me? It’d be a first.”
“I’m not flirting with you, Nathan,” I retort with a smirk. “You really should look where you’re going.”
“And you should carry a basket for all your slumber-party-of-one snacks.”
We stare at each other before bursting out laughing. I bend to pick up my stuff and he follows suit. From my peripheral, I notice a tightness to his jaw as he absently collects the items. He conceals it with an easy smile as we stand.
I take a few packets of chips off his hands as I joke, “We need to stop meeting like this.”
He nods, scratching the back of his head. “I’m a little distracted today.”
“Bad day?” I ask in the most casual tone.
“The worst.”
Shame hits my guts for taking advantage of his vulnerability and openness. I should end this conversation right now, instead of intentionally getting him to reveal more by befriending him. However, this is my one and only shot to finally learn more about my scary grim reaper who hasn’t stopped haunting me day and night for the past eight days.
I’m finally one step closer to unmasking the man who has trapped me in a spell.
So utterly close that I can almost taste his name on the tip of my tongue.
I can’t live with this raw and dissatisfying feeling anymore.
Can’t let this chance slip away.
“I’m sorry,” I console, forging on a corrupt path there will be no turning back from. “Do you want to talk about it? I’m a good listener too.”
“Is that right?”
“Obviously not as good as you.”
That makes him smile. “Okay, then. Let’s get these packed.” He points to my overflowing arms. “Before you smack into another poor soul.”
“Hey! Mean.”
He chuckles all the way to the front counter. I dump my stuff and wait for Sahil to bill all of it and pack it in a paper bag.
“I’ll be back in a sec,” excuses Nathan and runs toward the aisles. When he returns, he’s carrying two cones of ice cream. One of them is my favorite flavor. Catching me staring, he reveals, “For us.”
“And you just randomly picked strawberry?”
Placing it on the counter, he replies, “I remembered you buying it yesterday.”
Awful.
I’m a really awful person.
“Do you want to switch with another?” he asks.
“No. Strawberry ice cream is my favorite.”
“Perfect.” Shushing me when I offer to pay, he pays Sahil with cash and grabs my bags.