Page 48 of Jesse
I glanced around, pretending to check my phone, but saw nothing unusual. It was just people sipping coffee and chatting.
Probably my imagination, I thought, though the feeling didn’t quite go away.
After grabbing breakfast, I noticed a grocery store across the street and figured I’d stock up on a few things.
Jesse’s pantry wasn’t exactly well-stocked, and PB&J wasn’t going to cut it forever.
The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly as I walked the aisles, grabbing the essentials: bread, peanut butter, jam, and milk.
My hand hesitated over the cereal. Would Jesse even like it? I wasn’t sure, but the thought of him trying one of my favorite late-night staples made me smile.
I tossed it in the basket, hoping he’d give it a chance.
As I reached for a carton of milk, the same prickly sensation crept up my neck again, stronger this time. My pulse quickened. I glanced around, trying to appear casual.
A few aisles over, a man in a dark red sweater and a baseball cap lingered near the shelves.
His head was tilted slightly, as if reading a label, but there was something about his posture that put me on edge.
I froze.
Was he in the coffee shop earlier? The thought flickered through my mind, but I couldn’t place him for certain.
Calm down, Beck. You’re being ridiculous.
Still, I moved quicker, grabbing the last item on my list and heading for the self-checkout.
My hands moved almost automatically, scanning and bagging the groceries, but my focus darted to the edge of my vision, searching for that red sweater.
I left the store with my pulse racing, gripping the bags tightly as I crossed the street back to the truck. Once inside, I sat there for a moment, trying to breathe.
The cab was quiet, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. I adjusted the rearview mirror, moving it side to side, hoping for reassurance.
For a split second, I thought I saw a flash of red, but when I looked again, there was nothing.
I swallowed hard.Get a grip.
Pulling out of the spot, I drove back to Jesse’s apartment with a little more urgency than usual.
My eyes flicked to the mirrors more often than necessary, but the streets behind me stayed empty.
By the time I parked and grabbed the bags, the tightness in my chest had eased, slightly. But that nagging feeling of being watched still crawled along my spine.
Jesse was in the kitchen when I got back, leaning on the counter with his phone. He looked up as I walked in, his face brightening.
For a moment, the unease from earlier faded, replaced by something warmer. Safer.
“You should’ve woken me up,” Jesse said, walking over to help with the bags.
He leaned in to give me a quick peck on the cheek, so casual it felt like second nature. The gesture caught me off guard, and I felt my shoulders drop a fraction.
Should I say something? Did it even matter now that I was here with him?
I handed over the lighter bag, avoiding his gaze as I shifted the heavier ones in my arms. My throat felt tight, the words hovering there, but I swallowed them down.
Not yet. It’s probably nothing.
Jesse peeked inside. "You went all out, huh?"
