Page 7 of The Book Club Boyfriend
And there’s onlyonecarton of my favoriteflavor left.
I reach for it at the exact same moment he does.
“Oh, comeon,” I exhale, exasperated.
He grins, fingers gripping the other side of the carton. “You again.”
“Youagain.” I tug the container toward me.
He tugs it back.
We stare each other down like two cowboys in an old Western standoff, a single pint of chocolate peanut butter swirl between us.
“Be reasonable,” I say. “I had it first.”
“Nope. I touched it first.”
“That is alie.”
He smirks. “Fine. You want to settle this like adults?”
I cross my arms. “I am not arm wrestling you in the middle of the frozen food aisle.”
“Scared you’ll lose?”
“Scared I’ll break your fragile ego.”
He lets out a low laugh, then—the audacity—grabs a second carton of some other flavor and holds it out to me. “Tell you what. You take this, and I take this one. A compromise.”
I scowl at the offensive carton in his hand. “That’smint chocolate chip.”
“And?”
I look at him like he’s personally insulted my entire family. “It tastes like frozen toothpaste.”
“Well, now you’re just being dramatic.”
I yank the chocolate peanut butter swirl out of his hands and shove the mint back in the freezer. “Find another coping mechanism. This is mine.”
I march toward the registers before he can argue.
Only to realizehehas reached the checkout first.
With the last jar of peanut butter sitting smugly in his cart.
You havegotto be kidding me.
I narrow my eyes at the cashier, a teenage girl who looks half-asleep butalsolooks like she might be susceptible to a small bribe.
I pull out a five-dollar bill and slide it across the counter. “You see that jar of peanut butter? If another shipment comes in, set one aside for me. Every week.”
She perks up slightly, pocketing the cash. “Sure.”
But then—
“Hey, Ashlyn,” Chase says smoothly, leaning against the counter like he’s thestarof some rom-com meet-cute. “Got a question for you.”
The cashier, Ashlyn,giggles. Actuallygiggles.
