The store had been packed when I arrived, but the lot was only half full by the time I headed back to my car. I juggled my bags to dig in my pocket for my key fob as I started across the row.
An engine revved, and I glanced up automatically. The car was already moving toward me, but instead of slowing as most drivers would, it accelerated.
I stumbled backward, the grocery bags slipping from my grip. One of the paper bags tore open, and a Styrofoam carton of eggs hit the pavement.
The car didn’t brake or swerve away from me.
I jumped back again, my back pressing against the metal bar of the cart return. Thank goodness my shoe collection was mostly flats because I wouldn’t have moved so quickly in heels. The bumper passed close enough that I felt the rush of air against my legs. If I’d hesitated for even a second, they would’ve hit me.
The driver didn’t seem worried about the close call. They just tore down the aisle without slowing, tires squealing as they made a hard right out of the aisle.
I took a steadying breath and bent to pick up my groceries, my hands shaking hard enough that I almost dropped the eggs again before managing to shove the carton back into the torn bag.
When I climbed into my car, my system was still flooded with adrenaline.
I told myself to breathe. To calm down. But there was only one thing I wanted.
Grabbing my phone, I tapped his name in my favorites.
The line rang once before Keegan picked up. “Linden.”
I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding my breath until it left me in a rush. “I’m sorry. It was probably nothing. A car sped up instead of slowing down. It didn’t hit me, just freaked me out. And probably broke all of my eggs.”
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Still in the parking lot at the grocery store.” I looked around, breathing a little easier when I didn’t see anyone nearby. “In my car now, with the doors locked.”
“Good. I’m coming to you.”
I bit my bottom lip before whispering, “Could you meet me at my apartment instead? I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“Only if you’re okay to drive there.”
His concern steadied me probably more than it should have. “It’s only a mile down the street.”
“Okay. Text me the address, and I’ll be right behind you.”
The line went quiet, and I pulled up our thread to send him my address. Then I started the engine and gripped the steering wheel until my hands stopped shaking.
I hit every red light between the grocery store and my apartment.
By the time I pulled into my complex, at least my pulse had settled. I parked in my usual spot and popped the trunk. I circled to the back and grabbed the torn paper bag first, already knowing what I’d find. When I peeled it open, my nose scrunched.
The eggs were completely ruined.
“Perfect,” I muttered under my breath.
I was halfway through shifting the rest of the bags into one arm when I heard the rumble of an engine entering the lot behind me. I turned just as an unfamiliar truck rolled down the lane and pulled into the space beside mine.
Relief hit when I recognized the driver. Keegan was already here.
He shut off the engine and stepped out, his gaze sweeping the area. Then his eyes found me.
He crossed the short distance between us in a few strides. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He didn’t take my word for it.
