Page 73 of Rebellious

“Romaine,” she says pointing to the produce department. “I’m going to make you a healthy salad.”

“Mmm…” I tease. “A healthy salad sounds so much better than something greasy.”

She smacks me. “I know what you’re doing, and it won’t work. I’m eating a salad with you, even if I’d rather have a greasy burger.”

Stopping at the lettuce, I drop one hand and grab a bundle of romaine and toss it up over my head. She catches it easily and I feel her tuck it in between her chest and my back.

“Next?”

“Salmon.” She says it with a slight gag that makes me laugh.

“You hate fish,” I argue.

Her arms tighten around me. “But you love it.”

I do, but… “We can get chicken.”

“Salmon is better for you.” She hesitates. “It’ll also stink up the kitchen and fuck with Fenn’s hangover in the morning.”

We both share a laugh, and it occurs to me that I will never again experience picking my dinner choices based on which one will make our brothers nauseated. Once we return to campus, I won’t give a shit what Fenn and Drew do, much less have the enthusiasm to fuck with them in the morning. My college days will be reduced to just making it through until I graduate.

Or transfer.

Which is an awful idea. I know it, my father knows it, and so does Aspen. I can lie all I want, but the fact is, I’ve never lived a day without knowing Aspen wasn’t within driving distance. The only time I’ve not lived next door to her was when she was a freshman in college, and I was a junior in high school.

I made it a week before I started sneaking off in the middle of the night, driving to her townhouse and crawling into her bed. I told her I was worried about her living all alone in the city, but really, I couldn’t sleep without her. Eventually, half of her closet was full of my clothes and I was getting up at four am to sneak back into my house.

Except my father doesn’t sleep, so that secret lasted for all of about two hours. I assured him I was just checking Aspen’s locks and fell asleep at her house when she caught me. It was an accident. Which coincidentally happened every single night, but he never asked me about it again. He simply requested I drive up after dinner—rather than the middle of the night—and not be late to class in the morning.

My point is, nothing has ever stopped me from getting to this girl. Except for now. Her going to Boston mucks up me playing football. But if she works for Thad in Atlanta, that could work.

“Bennett.” She jostles me like someone would a horse. “You all right?”

Yeah, I nod. “Salmon.”

I head to the coolers of seafood and pick out a package of salmon and toss it over my head. Just like last time, she stuffs it between us and directs me to about four other items before she’s finished.

“Lane four is open,” she tells me.

I ignore her and head to the frozen section and pull out a bag of crinkle fries. “You want this size or the bigger bag?”

“We’re not getting fries, Bennett. Didn’t you just inhale a boatload of carbs? You can’t eat those.”

“I’m not planning to eat them.”

She scoffs. “I can’t eat them in front of you.”

I toss the bag over my head. “I’m not a carb-lusting vampire, Asp. I think I can handle you eating a plate of fries in my presence.”

Seriously.

“I know, but—”

“Eat the salad with me,” I negotiate, “and for dessert, I’ll have water and you can have the fries.”

“Bennett,” she tries again.

Ignoring her, I head toward the checkout. “You said lane four, right?” I pause, spotting a pack of passion fruit bubble gum on an end cap. I snag it and toss it up to her. “Anything else?”

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