Page 166 of Come Break My Heart Again

“Right back?”

“Elle is running to the store.” Keira answers Ryder so I can continue avoiding his gaze.

“I’ll go with you,” Ryder offers.

“You guys are grilling,” I reply without looking at him, fiddling with the car keys Keira handed to me. “I just need one thing. I’ll be right back.”

“I don’t mind.”

I swallow the swear that wants to come out. “Fine.”

There’s no teasing about driving this time.

Ryder climbs into the passenger seat silently as I start the car. The radio is still on from our drive home. Tucker turned it on, noticing the tension between me and Ryder, same as Keira.

I’m tempted to swear again when Ryder climbs out of the car once I park at the pharmacy. I was really hoping he’d decide to stay in the car.

I browse the toothpaste aisle first to keep my cover.

After randomly picking a brand, I keep walking. I’ve never bought an emergency contraceptive before. My best guess is, it’sby the tampons and pads, but there’s no sign of what I’m looking for there.

Ryder’s expression is carefully neutral as he follows me back down the aisle. I’m going to have to ask someone.

The only store employee I can find is the teenager working behind the counter. He’s ringing up a woman with diamonds the size of quarters hanging from her ears. She must be close to my mom’s age, but she checks Ryder out pretty obviously.

“Did you find everything you were looking for?” the guy asks as I set the toothpaste on the counter. His name is Cyrus, according to the white name tag on his chest.

“Uh, no, actually. I also need a morning-after pill. I didn’t see it in the aisle.”

Twin splotches of red color Cyrus’s cheeks. “We keep that back in the pharmacy. I’ll have someone bring one up here.”

“Great. Thank you.” My eyes stay straight ahead, studiously avoiding the gray gaze I can feel on me.

Cyrus picks up a walkie-talkie. “Hey, Frank?”

A garbled, “Yeah?” comes through thirty-two seconds later. I count them, just for something to do.

“Could you bring a box of Plan B up to register two?”

More static. “Bring what?”

“Plan. B.The morning-after pill.”

It’s shocking I’m not a puddle of embarrassment on the carpet right now.

“Oh. Yeah. Give me a few minutes.”

Those few minutes feel like several hours. Finally, another teenage guy appears with a purple box.

Cyrus scans it, then announces, “That’ll be seventy-six forty-two.”

Way more than I was expecting. But I nod, opening my wallet and pulling out my credit card. When I glance up, Cyrus isalready holding cash. We all wait in excruciating silence for him to count the change, which he hands to Ryder.

My stomach squeezes when I register his stony expression.

“Have a great night,” Cyrus says.

Doubtful.

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