Page 16 of Between the Blue
“I don’t understand how you could think I’m stalking you.”
I nearly knock another pickle jar off from a lower shelf as I scramble back down to my feet. I turn to face James, finding him not having taken a step from the spot he was just standing in.
A scoff of shock and confusion rolls off my tongue. “Why not?”
“Because that would mean I’d have to care about you.”
My jaw shifts to the side.
“Right. And that would require human emotion. Something you’re clearly incapable of. Please, excuse me.”
I wait for a response, thinking that I may actually get them regularly now, but all I get is James pushing his tongue into the side of his cheek and his eyes trailing down and back up my body once again.
“Why do you keep doing that?” I ask him.
Silence.
My fists tighten at my sides. I decide to return to my pickle jar, but lose my balance right as I almost grab onto it.
“Dammit,” I mutter to myself.
I glance over my shoulder, finding James just continuing to watch me with a condescending glare.
“Can I help you?” I question him.
A few seconds go by before he shakes his head curtly, just once.
“Why are you even at the grocery store on Wednesday morning?” I throw my hands in the air, frustrated. “Other than because you’re stalking me.”
“You’re the one that just moved here. Wouldn’t it make more sense that you’re stalking me?”
My spine steels at his unexpected reply.
Me babbling about having just moved here back in the men’s locker room on Monday actually…stuck with him?I would have been shocked to learn he was listening to anything I said at all that morning, much less absorbing it.Rememberingit.
“And besides,” James continues, “I always shop on Wednesday mornings.”
“What?” I mutter.
“It’s the least busy time,” he says evenly with a lazy shrug, as if it’s the most well-known fact in the world.
Rather thanmyfact.Mylittle secret.
I swipe my tongue across my lower lip. “So I guess this means we’re allowed to speak now?”
And, apparently, that does it.
Because James is suddenly back in motion, moving his cart past mine without another word.
I cross my arms, intent on letting him leave, but then glance over at him, blowing out a breath.
“James, wait.”
His feet slow to a stop. It takes a few moments, but he slowly turns his head over his shoulder, just enough so that his ear is angled in my direction, but not enough to give me the satisfaction of earning his eye contact.
“Can you at least help me reach this jar? Please?”
I see the steady fall of James’s large shoulders as he lets out a heavy sigh. I think for a moment that he’s just going to ignore my request and walk away, but then he turns around, walking over until he’s standing right in front of me.
