Mason: I’m off Wednesday evening, would you wanna go out?
Five minutes later…
Mason: We can get something to eat or we could go grocery shopping. That’s usually what I do on my night off haha
Four minutes later…
Mason: Totally don’t have to do either of those things, I was just out of ideas. We could see a movie, then I won’t have too many chances to say something stupid.
I laughed out loud, flopping back on my bed. He was either nervous or just naturally funny. Maybe both. My thumbs hovered before I finally answered.
Me: I’m dying, lol. We can go grocery shopping! That would actually be fun. I love shopping.
His response came fast.
Mason: Wednesday night. Grocery shopping. I’ll pick you up at six?
Me: Perfect.
I sent my address before I could second-guess it, then tossed my phone beside me. My cheeks hurt from smiling, my heart racing like I’d just run a marathon.
Wednesday couldn’t come soon enough.
Chapter 3
Mason
“You asked her to go grocery shopping?! For a first date?” Cody’s voice scolds across the kitchen table.
I lean back in my chair, trying not to grin. “Yeah. So?”
“So?” He throws his hands up. “So that’s terrible. Who does that?”
“Oh, don’t listen to him,” Karissa cuts in, nudging him with her elbow. “The grocery store is the only place you take me anymore.”
“What? It is not.” Cody glares at her, offended, but she just smirks at him over her glass of water.
“I think it’s a fun idea,” Addison chimes in, scooping another spoonful of applesauce into her mouth. “No pressure, no expectations. Just something simple.”
“Exactly,” I say, pointing my spoon at her. “Thank you. Finally, somebody gets it.”
Jesse shakes his head like I’ve just embarrassed the entire Jennings name. “Mase, you’re supposed to impress her. Dinner. Flowers. A real date. Not…aisle three next to the canned beans.”
“It’s about spending time together,” I argue, leaning back. “Not all the clichés of what a first date should be. I just want to talk to her, get to know her. You know, normal people stuff.”
Dad, who’s been quiet up until now, leans back in his chair with a grin. “Well, if she sticks around after watching you compare cereal prices, then you’ll know she’s the one.”
The table erupts with laughter, and even I can’t help joining in. They’re right—it’s unconventional. But for some reason, it feels like the right choice. Grocery shopping isn’t flashy, but it’s real. And if Megan’s good with that, then she’ll be good with me.
A few days later, I pull up to a split-level house, brick on the bottom, tan siding on the top, black iron railing along the steps.
I head up to the door, ring the doorbell, and wait. I’m sweating. It’s thirty-nine degrees out and I’m sweating.
The white door opens and there stands the cute blonde, same smile she’s worn every time I’ve seen her, her long hair pulled up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a white crewneck sweatshirt with royal blue lettering that saysCowboyswith a star under it.
“Oh, I don’t know about this now,” I say, pointing.
She looks down. “Oh, I don’t watch football. I just like the sweatshirt.”
