I drop down to my flat feet as I accept the help, who plucks it right off the top shelf. I take in the muscular, tatted guy in a black T-shirt. Idefinitelydon’t recognize him from my past.
His warm brown eyes meet mine as he grins. “Lavender, huh?”
“Yeah,” I choke out, feeling my face heat up as I brush my brown hair from my face. “For my mom, actually.”
“Ah, right,” he carefully sets it in my basket. “Because I guess pretty girls like you don’t use lavender?”
I let out a light laugh, feeling momentarily off balance. “I mean, I don’t know… But I don’t, no. Sorry if that’s what you were hoping for.”
He shakes his head, letting out a low chuckle. “Nope. Not at all. I don’t think I care what kind of soap you use, as long as you use it.”
“Good to know.” I take a sip of my coffee, noticing how he’s suddenly looking past me. I turn my head slightly, just enough to catch sight of a man in a black long sleeve, wearing a pair of dark wash jeans and hiking boots. His dark brown hair is in a tight buzz and his face cleanly shaven, showing an immaculate jaw line. It’s completely unfamiliar.
But those blue eyes…aren’t.
My brow furrows, my mind racing to place them—and to catch up to the way my heart is flipflopping in my chest like I might stroke out and die right here. My lips part, but the only noise that comes out is an “uh,” that makes the man look at me with pure disgust.
Like I did himreallywrong.
“You know him?” The guy behind me grabs my attention, and I whip my head back around to peer up at the six-foot-something man with a full beard and warm brown eyes. “Um… I think… I might?”
He chuckles. “The pain of a small town, huh?”
“Yeah, for sure,” I say quickly, my gaze flicking back in the direction of the man. But he’s not there anymore.
Damnit. IknowI know him. From somewhere.
“I’m Andy,” the guy who grabbed the body wash continues talking. “I’m actually just driving through, but if you’re free?—”
“No, nope,” I cut him off, shaking my head. “Thanks for getting the body wash.” I whip the cart around, and don’t look back as I pick up my pace, speed walking in the direction of the man with the ghost eyes.
My heart is in my throat as I turn the corner, expecting to see him.
Nope.
“What the hell,” I mumble under my breath, now flying down the aisles and throwing in the shit that’s on the list. I don’t even care that it’s not the brands my mother suggested. She can get over it.
I pour through the entire store in less than fifteen minutes, keeping my eye on the registers at the front the entire time.Where did he go? He couldn’t have gone that far?
I don’t know what it is about the guy, all I know is Ineedto see him again.
But after a solid thirty minutes and tired calves, he’s nowhere to be found.
And I give it up, dumping my shit off at the register.
“How’s your day?” the older, middle-aged lady behind the register asks me as I unload the items onto the conveyor belt.
“Good,” I mutter. “You?”
I’m sweating beneath my sweater, my eyes jumping to the parking lot through the one set of automatic doors. There’s nothing remotely out of place, and I close my eyes for a moment, tuning into the steady beep of the scanner…
And those eyes.
I can see the crystal-clear irises like they’re already burned into my memory, and yet, I still can’t remember where they came from.
Maybe I just went to school with the guy.
But why did he look at me like he hates me?
