Page 31 of Own the Eights
She picked up a cucumber and threw it into her basket. “I think a cucumber salad with dinner sounds delightful.” She snagged another. “Here, you look like you could use a cucumber, too.”
He waved off the vegetable. “I think you’ve ruined cucumbers for me.”
“Suit yourself. I’m going to go pay for my groceries,” she said, dropping the second cucumber into her basket. She turned to go but froze when he spoke.
“Why did you pick him?”
She studied his expression. “Steve?”
“Yeah, Save the Whales Hipster Steve. Why did you think he was an eight?”
Was Jordan jealous?
She held his gaze. “By partaking in certain activities, you prove youreight-ness.”
“Eight-ness?” he repeated skeptically.
“You saidten-ness. So, by default, I geteight-ness.”
He ran a hand through his perfect hair. “Was it the whale shirt?”
She weighed the question. “There are subtle eights signs that show that a person cares about bigger things than just themselves. You can find these attributes in how someone dresses, in what they buy, and how they act. His shirt tells me there’s a good chance he volunteers to help animals and probably cares deeply about the environment.”
“Why couldn’t a ten do all those things, too?” Jordan shot back.
She cocked her head to the side. “When was the last time you volunteered at an animal shelter or participated in a community cleanup?”
He shook his head and stared past her shoulder.
“Aha! See, that’s what makes Steve an eight and you, just a ten.”
“Just because I’m not wearing a Greenpeace shirt doesn’t mean I don’t care about the planet or work my ass off.”
“But you do it for yourself.”
“I help a lot of people become—”
“Superficial wankers,” she cut in.
He frowned. “No, healthier and happier. I give people a road map to their best life. I show them their greatness, their perfection.”
She took a step toward him. “Perfection is just an illusion.”
He leaned in, his lips inches from hers. “Only to those too scared or too jaded to reach for it.”
What was it about this asshat? One minute, she couldn’t care less if he fell off the face of the earth. The next, every cell in her body ached for his touch. And where was her trifecta? They couldn’t be falling for Jordan’s artificial antics.
“I’ll meet you outside,” she said in a shaky breath and headed for the self-checkout.
Mindlessly, she scanned and bagged her items. Her blood sugar had to be low. That had to be it. Her trifecta nodded, all of them a little off balance. Between the meeting at CityBeat, that kiss in Jordan’s car, and the tense scene next to the cucumbers, she must be damn near ready to pass out.
She grabbed her groceries, left the market, and pulled out the tube of vegan chocolate chip cookie dough. Without thinking, she ripped the top of the tube open with her teeth and squeezed the chocolaty goodness into her mouth.
“What the hell are you eating?”
She turned to see Jordan standing by a bench.
“Cookie dough,” she tried to say with a mouthful of gooey deliciousness.
