Page 86 of That's Too Pucking Bad

“You have two eggs left. And this milk expired two days ago.” She holds up the carton like it’s evidence in a murder trial.

“Okay, so it’s bad. We’ll go grocery shopping after breakfast.”

She grins, leaning against the counter. “Perfect. I get to judge you in the cereal aisle too.”

I grab a frying pan and start cracking the eggs. “Keep it up, and I’ll make you eat instant ramen for dinner.”

She laughs, stealing a piece of toast from the toaster. “Fine, I’ll behave. Maybe.”

The grocery store’s not as bad as I expected. She takes over the cart, tossing in things I’d never buy but know I’ll end up eating because it’s her.

“What about these?” she asks, holding up a box of some fancy crackers.

I shrug. “Sure. Whatever.”

She rolls her eyes, throwing them into the cart.

As we turn down the cereal aisle, she slows down, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Are you the reason Maya’s been ignoring me?”

I freeze for a second, caught off guard. “What?”

She shrugs, looking way too casual. “She hasn’t been texting me back. I thought maybe it was because of you.”

I think about it for a second, then sigh. “I’m not sure.”

“Why would she care?”

I stop the cart, turning to face her. “Because I’m crazy about you, Remy. And apparently, you’re the last person to figure that out.”

Her eyes widen, and I watch as the words sink in. Then she’s smiling, this slow, teasing grin that makes me want to kiss her stupid.

“You’re crazy about me?” she asks, stepping closer.

“You really need me to spell it out for you?”

She’s laughing as I grab her waist, pulling her against me. Her hands come up to my chest, and for a second, I think she’s going to push me away. But then her lips are on mine, soft and demanding all at once, and I’m lost.

We’re making out like a couple of teenagers, the cart abandoned behind us.

She smiles up at me. “You have practice all afternoon, so I’m giving you my undivided attention until then.”

“Yeah?” I ask against her lips.

She pulls back, moving back to the cart. She tosses a bag of chips in and teases, “You’re staring.”

After we unload the groceries back at my place, I surprise her by driving to the mall.

“What are we doing here?” she asks, glancing at me as we walk inside.

“You’ll see.”

She looks suspicious but follows me anyway. I lead her to one of those high-end stores, the kind with salespeople who wear suits and look like they’re judging you the second you walk in.

“Zane, what are we doing here?” she asks again, her voice quieter now.

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