Page 82 of My Debacle with De Lorenzo

She nods.

I run the first few steps before I lift my legs and let physics do the rest. The cart gains momentum and we zoom across the tarmac. The unexpected acceleration makes it difficult to steer, and my eyes widen when I notice that we’re about to collide with an SUV.

“Shit, Bella! Emergency brake!”

I hop off, bringing the cart to an abrupt halt, and then physics does the rest. Inertia causes her to fly off, and she tumbles onto the floor. I’m not sure if she’s in pain because all I can hear is her giggling on the other side.

“Are you okay?”

I rush around the cart to help her up, but my laughter makes me sloppy, and I can’t even get her off the ground. She ends up pulling me down too and we just stay on the floor, laughing our asses off because we can do nothing else. I eventually use the cart for support to stand up and help her up as well.

“Thank God for this fat ass.” She quickly dusts herself off. “It cushioned the fall.”

“It’s so fat.” I reach out and squeeze her left breast. “I’m sure these airbags helped, too.”

She gives me an unimpressed smirk. “You’ll find any excuse to touch them.”

“I’m going to stop making excuses and just touch them when I feel like it.”

We get back to my Jeep and unload the groceries. I lock the car as soon as she gets in and only unlock it after I walk around to the driver’s side.

“You locked me in the car again,” she complains as I strap on my seatbelt.

She knows about my anxiety now, so there’s no point pretending that I didn’t mean to do it. “It’s just another weird habit I have. I feel like...a sitting duck in a parking lot and that just makes me feel like I have control over one small thing. I can make sure that you’re safe inside...and then you can’t get hurt. I know it’s stupid, but?”

“It’s not.” She reaches over to squeeze my hand and with that tiny bit of contact, the past shifts to the back of my mind...where it belongs. “Now, the whole point was to give you a different association, so let’s end off with something memorable.” She switches on the radio and uses Bluetooth to link it to her phone. “You need a theme song, and I think I have one that’s perfect for you.” She scrolls through her playlist. “I’m going to play...Justin Bieber’s...Baby.”

I narrow my eyes to glare at her. “How can you choosethatas my theme song?”

“When you told me you were devastated that he broke up with Selena, I assumed you were a fan.”

“Yeah, I’m a fan of hardcore, tattooed Biebs.My mama don’t like youBiebs.DespacitoBiebs. I would even settle forBeauty and the BeatBiebs, but not fuckingBabyBiebs.”

“Don’t you dare lie, De Lorenzo. I can bet you were a teeny bopper Belieber when you were younger. You may have even dabbled in One Direction.”

I shake my head. “I don’t even know what that is. You know I prefer Pitbull. Actually, I’m more of an Eminem fan. Play thatCriminalsong. Considering the circumstances, I think that’s the perfect theme song for me.”

“You’re telling me you’re an Eminem fan, even with the way he speaks about women?”

“Yeah, because he’s not just a lyrical genius, he teaches life skills through his music, like how to keep bitches in line. Now, get in line, bitch, and playCriminal.” I cringe. “Ah, shit. Sorry.” I lean over and give her a quick kiss. “I shouldn’t have called you that. I’m sorry.”

She laughs, then slaps my arm. “You can’t even keep up the bad boy persona for a second. No, you’re definitely gettingBabyBiebs now. We’re doing this and you’re going to sing your heart out.”

“What makes you think I know the words?”

“Oh, don’t play coy. You know the words.”

I have a younger sister. Of course, I know the words. She used to listen to this shit on repeat. Bella presses play and the first beats come through the speakers.

Oh wooooah

“Admit it. You are feeling this little crooner’s voice in your soul, De Lorenzo.”

“I don’t even like this song.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Oh wooooah

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