Page 16 of Where We Call Home

“I’m so insensitive,” I muttered, unable to meet his eyes. I needed a T-shirt that readWorld’s Biggest Assholewith two arrows pointing at me.

“Don’t worry about it,” Rhodes said, dipping his head to catch my gaze. “It’s not something I’m embarrassed by, mental health needs to be talked about.”

When I finally looked back at him, his perfectly pink lips curved into a lopsided smile. His reassurance did little to calm the frantic thudding of my heart.

“I shouldn’t have assumed,” I stammered. “That was an asshole move.”

Rhodes shrugged. “Now you know.” He nodded toward the snacks I was still clutching. “What’s going on there? I’m sensing a theme.”

I let out a scoff, followed by a self-deprecating laugh. “I came here craving something sweet, but when I saw the bright yellow and red Cheetos bag, my mouth started watering. Lately, spicy always wins the craving war.”

Rhodes hummed thoughtfully. “I make a pretty good spicy pasta.”

“Are you a good cook?” I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.

Rhodes tilted his head. “Good is subjective. I like to think I have a few signature dishes. Spicy pasta happens to be one of them.”

A pause stretched between us. Was he offering to cook for me? Or just making conversation? Either way, pasta sounded amazing.

“You could come over one night, and I’ll make some for you,” he offered, his smile widening.

“Oh, please!” The words slipped out before I could stop them, sounding way too eager. Internally, I cringed, my subconscious seemed to be rooting for this.

Rhodes reached into his back pocket and handed me his phone. I took it gingerly. I felt like I had too much power. His lock screen was a picture of him and his friends, arms slung around one another and grinning wide. How sweet.

Swiping up, his phone immediately unlocked. Who didn’t lock their phone these days? That was borderline psycho behavior in my book.

I typed in my contact info and sent myself a quick text so I’d have his number, too, and then handed it back.

“You even put your last name in here?” he teased, shaking his head. “We’re already friends. No need for formalities.”

“Noted,” I said, smiling down at my feet.

There was something about Rhodes. His presence felt effortless yet magnetic, like low stakes with a high reward. He was practically a stranger, someone I’d been around a handful of times and knew very little about. I should feel timid, scared to be so open but that seemed impossible around him.

“Do you need anything else, or are you all set?” Rhodes asked, his tone light, easy—completely free of judgment.

I nodded, then immediately second-guessed myself.

Actually…

I spun on my heel, heading toward the next aisle. “Wait. I should grab something sweet. Just in case.”

Rhodes followed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he watched me scan the shelves.

Finally, I grabbed a big bag of kettle popcorn and turned back to him, victorious.

“Now I’m ready.”

His lips twitched like he was fighting back a grin. “Good to know you take snack decisionsveryseriously.”

“Only the important ones.” I clutched the bag to my chest like it was a prized possession. “Besides, you never know when a craving for something salty and sweet is gonna hit.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he teased, waving a hand for me to go first.

He stuck with me through checkout, then followed me out to my car, the comfortable silence between us making my chest feel…weirdly warm.

At my driver’s side door, Rhodes reached out, pulling it open for me.

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