charm. “But you can’t blame me for not seeing you. You’re tiny.”
She doesn’t laugh. Instead, she puts her hands on her hips and rolls her eyes at me.
“Such a gentleman. So, what…do you plow kids down too?”
“Sometimes.” There’s a smile. “Where’re you from?”
Why am I asking? I have bigger fish to fry with my kind-of girlfriend. Oh, but that smile.
She turns her back to me, speaking over her shoulder. “A place where people watch where they’re going. That’s where.”
I can’t help myself. I follow, leaving my basket behind and walking around her to see that gorgeous face again.
“I’m asking because of the accent—” I snap my fingers. “Up north somewhere. Connecticut?”
“Oh, please. I don’t have an accent. You have one,” she answers, pausing by a bag of chips and glancing at me sideways.
I smile at her, ready to flirt right back, but instead catch something familiar said from over the shelf. The high-pitched giggle echoes again, and my eyes narrow. No fucking way.
Lilibeth.
I lift on my toes to look over the shelf to see she’s walked in with some guy’s arm slung over her shoulder. Someone who’s definitely older than me. Miss Georgia’s dipping a toe into the college pool.
“Shit,” I whisper, as Lilibeth and her guy walk toward the aisle I’m standing in.
This debacle is going one of two ways. One, I call Lilibeth out, cause a scene, and let her retell the story, which leads everyone to think that I’m whipped on her because I’m here with a cart full of her favorite things and my dick in my hand. Or two, I escape unseen and ignore her from today on. Two, most definitely number two.
I duck down, looking around, and pretty girl’s eyes widen.
“What are you doing? Are you okay?” she questions, glancing around too, probably thinking I’ve lost my mind.
I grab her waist and maneuver her in front of me, shushing her, but she swats at my hands.
“Are you crazy? Let me go.”
I push her forward, still using her as my human shield, speaking into her back. “Hear me out. I just saw my not-quite girlfriend walk inside with some guy after she just canceled on me. I don’t want her to see I was planning a whole night. I need my dignity, woman.”
She laughs, and my head lifts, drawn to the melody, as she twists to look at me. Her small hand taps the top of my head.
“That’s shitty, but you’re kidding, right? First off, you’re twice my size. I’m not hiding you well. And second, a guy who looks like you should be more lion than kitten.”
Well, damn. She thinks I’m good-looking. I’ll show you a fucking lion.
Before I can stand to my full height to debate my life with a total stranger, I hear, “Holt.”
Groaning, I let my forehead rest against the pretty stranger’s back for a moment, before standing to my six-foot-one height and turning around.
“Lilibeth,” I answer, giving my most charming smile.
Her eyes are jumping between the girl, who is now standing next to me, and me. Why is she still here?
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Holt? Who’s she?” Lilibeth has nerve.
“Her? Who’s that?” I accuse, stabbing a finger in the direction of the confused jock.
Lilibeth crosses her arms, and I swallow, wondering how far I’m going to take this. She’s staring at the girl with a pinched-up face and pursed lips. I roll my eyes, about to bow out ungracefully, when my unexpected partner in crime speaks up.
“I’m the girl who’s taken your place. You don’t mind,” she quips, motioning to the guy looking dumb as rocks next to Lilibeth. “I think it’s great you found someone on your level—it’s never smart for a girl like you to aim too high.”
Laughter explodes out, but I stifle it, wiping a hand over my mouth and dragging it down over my face. My gaze darts down to the feisty little thing next to me, giving her a wink.
She looks up, batting her lashes at me, and it has me thinking that fate had plans of its own.
Looking back to a shocked Lilibeth, I smirk. “It’s good seeing you. Tell your momma I said hi when you see her tonight. You know, for the charity thing.”
With my hand on new girl’s back, I lead her to the cashier, hearing the dumb oaf begin to question Lilibeth. We sidle up, and my new friend places her Cheetos, Sour Patch Kids, and a Dr. Pepper on the counter.
“Psst,” I say, not looking