Page 37 of The Red Zone
What was with people these days, anyhow? Was there a reason people felt the need to just say whatever bullshit came to their mind without filtering it through their brain first? At least when I was modeling, I was getting paid to listen to people’s unrefined, unsolicited thoughts.
Long gone were the days where people plastered on a fake smile when they didn’t like someone and gave them a condescending “bless your heart”. Then proceeded to keep their mouths shut until they got home. Then, and only then, did they run through the entire scenario aloud while voicing all of the things they’d wished they said to your face.
Those were the good days—no matter which side of the equation you were on. Gosh, I missed it. I know what you’re thinking, “Mae, doesn’t this logic apply to October, too?”, and the answer to that is hell no—no explanation necessary.
The woman continued to stand in front of me with her arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face that accentuated her forehead wrinkles. I eyed who I assumed to be her husband who was coming down the aisle based on the fearful look in his eyes. I gave him alonghead-to-toe stare down while licking my lips before returning my attention back to the woman who was trying to ruin my night. “Why? Worried I’ll fuck your husband when he finally decides to divorce you?”
The man laughed under his breath as he placed a twelve pack of beer in the cart and came to stand next to her.
Unexpectedly, October came up behind me and placed one hand on my waist while he took my grocery items out of my hands. My annoyance from this situation must have drowned out the sound of the cart he had brought with him. “Hey, babe! You finally found someone to help fulfill that hotwife fantasy of yours?”
He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and I peered up at him with knotted brows, he shot me a quick micro-expression urging me to play along. “Yeah, I did… what’s your name, again?” I wrapped a hand around October’s back and reached up with the opposite one to interlock my fingers with his hand that was hanging off my shoulder.
Poor lady's husband looked like a deer in headlights standing in front of us blinking rapidly like he could see his life flashing through his eyes. “Our hotel is just down the block. You’re more than welcome to come back with us. As long as you’re… okay with an audience.”
The woman’s face turned fire truck red and it took everything in me to keep my composure and not burst out laughing. “We’re leaving… now.” She stormed down the aisle leaving her full cart in the dust. “Larry. Now,” she called back.
“I—I, uh…” he sputtered, not having moved a muscle.
“Maybe he’ll be down for a spit roast. I know you’ve been wanting to try that for a while now.” October’s voice was far more seductive than it should’ve been.
I peered up at him with a taunting smile “Yeah, I have. What do you say? Is that something you’d be interested in?”
Glancing to my right, and the guy’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head. Poor dude, probably hadn’t gotten any action in ages by the looks of it.
“Larry!” His wife barked from the end of the aisle.
“Bye, Larry.” October and I broke apart our hand hold to finger wave as he stared at us slack jawed while he walked backward down the aisle. “Call us when you get bored.”
We watched with smug smiles until he rounded the corner out of sight.
October peered down at me longingly. “We make a good team.”
I stared at him with a blank expression that slowly turned into my eyes narrowing and my mouth opening in surprise. “That’s… just no. Now get your arm off of me.” I shuffled out from under his touch and my entire body cringed in disgust.
Sure, it was nice to poke a little fun, but us being a “team”? Get out of here. In what universe did that seem logical?
“Yeah… I regretted saying it as the words were coming out.”
“Do you think they’re going to come back for the cart?”
“Not a chance.” He laughed, grabbing the handle of our cart and following me to the register.
At checkout, I caught October staring at me out of the corner of my eye. He had a subtle smirk on his lips and not a single brain cell behind his eyes.
“Stop looking at me like you’ve seen me naked.”
“I have seen you naked,” he said matter-of-factly.
“The good shoppers of Publix don’t need to know that, though,” I scolded with a whisper.
October turned his attention to the long, black-haired, college-aged cashier who had an equal number of tattoos as him. “I’ve seen her naked.”
The girl eyed me up and down slowly. “Can I see you naked too?”
This man. I swear. I can’t be seen in public with him.
Do you see the kind of shit he gets me roped into?
