Page 64 of The One I Hate
“Me?”
“Yes, you. So until you fess up to what you did, then I have nothing to say.”
I grab the tote and start marching toward the entrance to the diner. I hear him yell something, but I don’t pay attention.
I know he has to have the last word, which is fine. Let him have this one. Because I know at the end of the day, I’m going to get the one that counts.
Groceries. I need groceries.
Yes, I realized that last night after my sixth trip to the car, but I was too tired to do anything about it. I didn’t even eat dinner. Nothing sounded good, and frankly, I was too tired to even think about leaving. For one, I would have had to move. And second, I would risk running into Simon again. One dose of him for the day was more than enough. That and the bed that was provided in the fully furnished apartment was the most comfortable thing I’ve ever laid on. You couldn’t have paid me to leave that thing.
But today is a new day. I feel a bit more refreshed, have the whole day off, and I plan on making this day my bitch, starting with groceries.
I love that Rolling Hills doesn’t have a mega supercenter in town. No, the only grocery store in town is family-owned, and according to the signage has been in town and owned by the same family since 1945. I absolutely love it. The aisles are small and the selection is limited, but there is a meat department with a butcher on staff and a bakery taking custom cake orders. While I’d love to go sample the sweets, those aren’t on the shopping list today. No, I need fruits, vegetables, and anything else that will power me through these next few weeks.
What I don’t need is Simon Banks, staring at me while holding a peach in his hands.
Oh for fuck’s sake…
“Well isn’t this a coincidence,” Simon says, tossing the peach up slightly and catching it. “Are we synced up on our grocery days? We should be shopping buddies. We could go get coffee, do some shopping, maybe some lunch where you can answer the question of why you never returned a phone call and blocked me.Or! You can tell me which position was your favorite. Mine was when you?—”
I hold a finger to his mouth, shutting him up. Except the act makes him smile, which was not my intention.
“Are you stalking me?”
His smile turns to a face of fake shock as I lower my finger. “Bug! I would never.”
“Yes you would, and you know it.”
“I’m just a man doing my grocery shopping.” He takes the peach and takes a huge bite out of it, our eyes locking. “And I had a hankering for peaches. I just, I don’t know, wanted something I could really sink my teeth and fingers into, you know?”
I hate, hate, hate, hate, that my pussy clenches when he says that. I can feel his fingers digging into my hips and ass. The nibbles he bit into my thighs.
Fuck, this is so bad.
“You’re the worst,” I say, doing my best to regain my composure. Though guessing by the smirk on his face, he knows he’s won this round.
“Actually, I think I’m the best. At many, many things.”
“Yes. Best at being an asshole.”
“Aw, is that your nickname for me? Bug and Asshole. I think it has a ring to it.”
“You’re insufferable,” I say as I start grabbing every piece of produce I can find and throwing them haphazardly into my buggy.
“You love me,” he says, handing me a plastic bag.
I snatch it from him. “Just leave me alone.”
“I could do that. All you have to do is tell me what I want to know.”
I stuff three tomatoes into the bag and swing them around, nearly hitting him. “And I told you, you have to confess what you did before you get an answer.”
“And I told you I don’t know what the fuck I did.”
I realize at this point that people are staring. Great. Way to make a good first impression on the new town. He pulls me to the corner, a little out of the way, which I appreciate. What I don’t appreciate is my body growing hot just by his simple touch.
“Whether you believe me or not, I don’t know what you think I did.”
