Shells and cheese? Gross.
“Okay, I can’t let you eat that,” she said, stopping a few feet from him.
Everett turned toward her, and that easy smile stretched across his face. “Oh yeah? But it’s so tasty.”
“No, it’s nasty. Your taste buds have just been too corrupted to realize it.” Callie realized her heart was jumping like a jackrabbit as he put back the last box and took a few steps toward her.
“So where are you headed with that empty cart?”
“Frozen aisle.” She resisted the urge to fiddle with her hair as he drew closer. She’d just tossed the unruly curls into a messy bun and that, combined with her oversized sweater, yoga pants, and Uggs, meant she probably looked like she’d just rolled out of bed.
Yeah, super-hot. Not.
“What are you buying in the frozen section?”
He leaned on her cart so he was only a few inches from her, his body radiating heat. God, she wanted to warm her hands on him, starting with those amazing shoulders—
Callie stumbled back at the sudden derailment of her thoughts and hit the shelves, knocking several cans to the ground.
“Oh my God.” She knelt down to pick up the cans, all the while refusing to look at him.
From under her lashes, Callie saw him squat down, and his hand reached out for hers. “Hey, stop, jitterbug. They’re just cans.”
Looking up then, she met his gaze. “I don’t know how to do this.”
Everett seemed taken aback, but then his expression softened. “I know how you feel.”
Callie laughed softly. “Yeah, right. You’re way too charming not to be good at this.”
“Only because I have to overcompensate for only having half a face,” he said.
Callie pulled her hand back, suddenly furious. “Stop doing that.”
“What?” he asked.
“Making a joke about your scars.” She grabbed at the scattered cans.
“Why does it bother you?” The question hit her right where it hurt.
Because he doesn’t need to be ashamed of his scars.
“I just think you’re better than that.”
“See, you can’t say things like that to me and expect me to ask you out.”
Her gaze flew up and she caught his smile. “I thought maybe you . . . you weren’t . . . interested anymore.”
“I am, believe me. I got your number from my brother two days ago, and I’ve just been staring at it,” he said. “But I wasn’t sure how you felt, so I just decided to let fate give me a sign.”
“I told you I don’t believe in fate.”
“And yet, here we are.” He stood up to put the last can on the shelf before turning back to face her. “How would you feel about getting some food at Jensen’s with me?”
“What about your groceries?” Callie eyeballed the beer and chips in his cart dubiously.
“Most of this is for Justin’s bachelor party tomorrow, but I can come back for it. Justin said you had the playlist. Are you all set for the wedding next weekend?”
At the mention of the playlist, her spirits dimmed momentarily.