A pause. A breath. Some shuffling. “He was?”
Roman sighs, dragging it out, doing his best to sound sympathetic for his friend. “Yeah. Rachel left him last month. Something about them not being compatible.”
An exhale. “Oh. I didn’t know that.”
He tries to muffle his laugh, clearing his throat. “Yeah. Well, he probably wants to be alone, anyway.”
“I mean, I haven’t seen him in a while. He could probably use the company.”
Roman: one, Danica: zero
“Okay, I’ll call hi–”
“Already texted him. Bye, loser.” The dial tone reaches his ear, and he lifts the basket from the ground, smiling.
He makes his way toward the section with feminine products, grabbing what Danica needs before moving back to the groceries. He watches as a dad pushes his babies around, and a mother fights with her toddler, their cart filled to the brim with meats and wine coolers.
As he rounds the corner, he notices a woman struggling to grab a box from the top shelf, and his mouth moves before his cerebral cortex can process his entire view.
“What are you looking for?” he asks, his voice echoing throughout the shelves.
Her head turns toward his voice, and he finds himself thrown by the visceral reaction his body has to her. An oversized green cardigan sits on her shoulders, covering most of her frame, and he wonders how she isn’tsweating to deathin it. It’s July. In Florida. He lingers for an extended amount of time on her face as he takes in her delicate nose. Eyes the color of bark. An upper lip that’s slightly thinner than the bottom. High cheekbones. Masses of braided ebony curls. Warm brown skin.
Devastatingly attractive.
Oh hell.
He licks his lips, his senses going into overdrive, and he wills his voice to sound normal.
“I hate when they put all the good snacks at the top,” he says, moving towards her with a sheepish smile. He can see that she comes up to his chin, and when she looks up, he notices her eyes are a lighter shade of brown. “This one?” he asks, extending an arm. Heat seeps through his arm as he tries to maintain his hold on the item for her. His fingers shake slightly as he waits for her confirmation.
“Uh, yeah,” she says, and he pulls the box down, handing it to her.
He’s almost certain she winces but can’t be sure because she’s leaning forward, and he’s momentarily distracted by the shape of her hands, the amber necklace that rests on her collarbones, the scent of freshly picked apples that seems to dance around her.
“What?” he says, in a daze. “What’s wrong?”
He steps closer as she inspects the package in her hands, her bottom lip protruding. He’s staring, but she doesn’t notice.
“Oh, it’s fine,” she says, waving him off as she gives a forced smile.
“Is that not what you wanted?” he asks, suddenly overcome with the urge toget it rightfor her.
She moves her head to the side, sending ripples of her perfume in his direction. He inhales, hopefully subtly, and exhales. She scratches her forehead, grimacing, then looks back at the floor.
“It’s fine,” she says slowly, but he’s already taking it from her hand and placing it back. His hand shifts to the left, his fingertips brushing the edge of a different package.
“This one?”
“A little to the right … yeah, that one.”
He tugs the square packaging from the shelf, and his mouth twists into a grimace when he reads the words “plant-based” and “infused with coconut, chocolate, and almond” across the box.
“Huh,” he says, leveling her with a look. “These look disgusting.”
She lets out a soft laugh as he passes them to her, and he feels a sudden surge of energy. Like he’s been asleep for a long time, and he’s just now waking up.
“Thanks.”
