The room erupted with “yes” and “hell yeah.”
Was I disappointed Mason wasn’t here?Yeah.Was I willing to console myself with steak and baked potatoes?Double yes.
Carnie laughed.“Good.But I’m gonna need one of you to run to the store for more potatoes.”
A chorus of “Not it!”rang out.
“Dammit,” I muttered when I realized I was the only one who hadn’t said it.
Pipe grinned and pointed at me.“Looks like Adley’s going.”
Dad pulled out his wallet and slapped a few twenties into my hand.“Get the potatoes and whatever else looks good.”
I rolled my eyes.“You’re getting potatoes, and I’m keeping the change.”
Dad grunted.
“Oh, and sour cream!”Carnie added.“I used most of it in the chocolate cake.”
I saluted.“Text me if you think of anything else.”
I slipped my sunglasses down over my eyes and headed out the door.The clubhouse thumped behind me, but outside it was calm.The faint rumble of a motorcycle drifted from the distance.
By the time I reached Mom’s car, the sound grew louder.A bike swung into the lot, sleek and black, and my heart did the one thing I didn’t want it to do, skipped.
Mason.
His eyes locked on me as he parked, his expression unreadable but heavy enough to make my knees soften.He cut the engine, and silence fell like a stone between us.
“Leaving?”he asked, his voice low.
I forced a smile and tugged at my sunglasses like a shield.“Just running to the store by myself.Carnie needs potatoes and sour cream.”
A smirk curved across his mouth, slow and dangerous.“Want some company?”
Chapter Sixteen
Mason
Adley was in front of me with her hands on the cart, sunglasses propped on her head, and I watched her hips sway to the beat of the eighties song playing on the store radio.
Two sacks of russets rode in the basket with a tub of sour cream big enough to spackle a house.Somewhere between produce and dairy we’d added a watermelon, a bag of grapes, a family-sized bag of kettle chips, and a box of Popsicles.
“You sure that’s enough potatoes?”I asked as I leaned into her to look into the cart, just to have a reason to stay close.
She glanced over her shoulder, the corner of her mouth tugging up.“Carnie could cook for an army with half a sack.We’re golden.”
I nodded like I believed it.Truth was, I wasn’t thinking about potatoes.I was thinking about the kiss I’d stolen in the parking lot.Quick, hungry, and both of us half-laughing like we were getting away with something.I had pulled back because the Spencer’s were loading paper towels into their minivan two spots over and I didn’t need that phone call from Slayer.
We took the corner at the end of the aisle and there it was: neon script humming above a swinging glass door.The kind of convenience-store holiness that makes every man believe in cold beer and second chances.The beer cooler.
“I think we need beer,” I said, deadpan.
Adley rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t go anywhere.“I’m pretty sure you guys never run out of beer.”
I met her eyes and nudged the cart a foot to the side to park it by the cooler door.“Let’s just look.There might be something we need in there.”
She huffed a laugh.“Uh-huh.Like what?”
