don’t think you looking like … that will draw attention?”
“Then everyone will be looking at me, not you.” Brix doesn’t give me a chance to dispute that and opens his car door.
This is going to end in disaster. I can already see it.
If I wasn’t Harley Valentine, all eyes would be on the gorgeousness that is my bodyguard, but I have one of the most recognizable faces on the planet. It’s why I haven’t gone grocery shopping in … well, ever.
I went from my mom’s house to having handlers and assistants who did all that day-to-day stuff for me. So I’ve never actually had to shop for food before.
I meet Brix around the front of his SUV. “Are you sure you’re not doing this because you’re bored already and need to see some adrenaline-inducing action? Iris implied this is not your normal type of job.”
“Do you honestly think you’ll be mobbed in a Safeway?”
“Ooh. This might actually be a fun lesson for you to learn.”
I take off toward the entrance, sensing he’s behind me every step of the way. The doors slide open, and we cross the threshold.
I pause, waiting for the inevitable.
Maybe I am out of touch with reality, because where I’m expecting to be recognized immediately, nothing happens. No one approaches.
“No mob yet,” Brix mutters as he passes me.
I catch up.
“Sorry to burst your bubble and dint that ego of yours.”
“Just wait. This ingenious and very original disguise of sunglasses and a cap won’t shield me for long.”
Brix grabs a cart and goes straight to the fridge section to pull out liquid egg whites.
“Could you be more of a stereotype?”
He huffs. “Me a stereotype? Because I have a high-protein diet? You are aware muscles don’t magically appear on their own?”
“These did.” I lift the hem of my shirt and show off my toned abs.
Brix scoffs. “Please.” He lifts his, and holy forking fucknuggets. He has abs on top of his abs.
Super abs.
They could be their own superhero and wear their own cape.
I take the egg whites out of his hands and read the back of the carton. “How do these things work?”
Brix laughs, loud and warm, and then reaches for more.
We walk the aisles, Brix loads the cart with more healthy crap, and it’s surprising how both fascinating and boring I find this experience.
“So, this is what it’s like to be a normal person?”
“I guess as normal as a pop star is ever gonna get.”
“I like it.” I pause at the candy aisle. “But I have a question.”
“Shoot … no, wait, I probably shouldn’t tell you to shoot anything.”
“Funny. So happy we’re already joking about my poor choices. But no, I’m wondering when normal people go shopping, who’s there to tell you to stay away from the candy?” My feet move in the direction of delicious treats.
I might have a small sugar addiction. Especially when it comes to writing an album. Back in the early Eleven days, I piled on the weight fast.
I was always a chubby kid, but then puberty hit, I grew two feet taller, and I never struggled with my weight again until being given all the food I wanted when I asked for it.
Management had to hire a personal trainer and tell everyone on staff to give me a sugar allowance. Only so many calories per day.
After a while, it became habit, but standing in front of an entire wall of candy …
I go for some Twizzlers, but Brix grabs my hand before I can reach them.
“Normal people need self-control.” He tries to pull me away. “But I’m guessing in your case, it’s all on me.”
I slip out of his grip. “Good luck with that.”
Brix tries to block me from getting to more candy, but I’m determined to win. Sugar must turn me into some sort of ninja because more candy gets thrown into the cart than Brix can put back, and I’m too busy laughing at him to notice anyone join us in the aisle.
He manages to get his arm around my waist, and he pulls me back against him.
His big body surrounds me, and I might like it a little too much.
That’s when the piercing scream happens.
I pray for a medical emergency like someone dropping dead in the middle of the store, but no, we turn to find a girl, maybe fifteenish, her hand over her screeching mouth and a box of Milk Duds scattered all over the ground at her feet.