“I’m being honest.”
“That’s dangerous.”She shakes her head.
“Why?”
“Because honesty tends to make things complicated.”
I chuckle softly.“Life’s already complicated.”
She leans her elbows on the cart handle and studies me thoughtfully.“You’re a lot more opinionated than people think.”
“I hide it well.”
“That quiet accountant routine?”she jokes.
“Works like a charm.”I say with a wink.
Her eyes sparkle faintly.“You’re not nearly as boring as you pretend to be.”
“That’s disappointing.”
“Why?”
“I worked hard on that reputation.”
She laughs again and this time the sound is real and warm.God, I love hearing her laugh.
We head toward the checkout lanes.The store has quieted down slightly as the evening crowd thins out.A few people move through the aisles, carts rattling softly over tile.Quinn unloads her groceries onto the conveyor belt while the cashier rings them up and I grab the bags at the end and start filling them.
“You really don’t have to do that,” she says.
“I know.”
“But you’re doing it anyway.”
“Yep.”
She watches me for a second.“You’re stubborn.”
“I prefer persistent.”
“It’s the same thing,” she says with an eyeroll.
“Not really—it depends on the situation.”
The cashier hands Quinn the receipt and we carry the bags outside together.The evening air feels cooler now.Streetlights flicker on across the parking lot, casting soft pools of yellow light across the asphalt.
We reach her car and she opens the trunk and I set the bags inside.For a moment neither of us speaks but the silence feels different now.Heavier and more personal.
Quinn leans against the car door, crossing her arms loosely over her chest.“You didn’t have to help me tonight,” she says.
“I know.”
“But you did.”It’s a statement of fact.
“Yeah.”I shrug my shoulders like it doesn’t matter but we both know it does.
“Why?My own boyfriend only showed up to complain about me spending too much time shopping for ingredients.”
