He grins at me. “You always judged me for how many shades I had. I never teased you about your shoe collection. Or the ridiculous amount of pillows you always kept on your tiny ass bed. How did you even fit?”
Gavin would get annoyed with me about that too. It was rare as we got older that he’d hang out with me in my room, but sometimes we’d put on Netflix on my laptop and junk out. It never stopped him from buying me new pillows if he found ones that reminded him of me.
“I miss that Jeep,” he tells me, looking into the sideview before moving to a different lane. “I considered getting a new one but didn’t think it’d work well for what I need here.”
Looking at the screen in the middle of the dash, I note all the different options. “Seems like you can do way more with this thing.”
“It works.”
I roll my eyes. “My car doesn’t even have heated seats. You should be more grateful for what you have.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “You’re right.”
After a few more minutes, we slow down near a lit-up drugstore. He pulls into the parking lot and shuts off the car. His body turns to mine as he grabs something from the back.
“Ready?” Pulling a baseball cap onto his head to cover his dark hair, he smiles.
“You need a fake mustache too?”
He rolls his eyes and pulls sunglasses from a little compartment above the rearview mirror that I didn’t see before. “You joke, but you’ll see why it’s important.”
“You’re kidding right?”
The shades cover his eyes. “Nope.”
Opening his door, he nods his head. “Are you coming? You need some Motrin, don’t you? I could grab a few things too while we’re out.”
My hand stalls on the lever of the door, watching him warily. “Why are you doing this? Trying so hard?”
His response is instant. “Because you deserve it.”
I swallow and open the door, absentmindedly following him inside. His palm lightly rests on the small of my back as we walk to the aisle we need.
There are only a few people in the store, which doesn’t surprise me since it’s going on midnight. According to the sign in the glass door, they’re open twenty-four-seven. I suppose given the demographic, it’s probably a good thing.
Corbin picks up a bottle and shakes it. “Is this going to work, or do you need a bigger one?”
“That’ll work.”
He keeps hold of it and continues walking down the aisle until his eyes scan the new one he wants. When I notice the candy along the shelves, I roll my eyes.
“Isn’t it a bit late for candy?”
His gasp is amusing and overdone. “I seem to recall a girl who informed me that there’s never a bad time for candy.”
Pretty sure the time he’s referring to is the same night I ate way too much sugar and puked my guts out. Corbin had to hold my hair back and find a store that was still open to get me ginger ale and anti-nausea medicine so my stomach would settle.
“Pick your poison.” He already has our normal in his hand, but my eye goes to the peanut butter cups that’s in front of me.
“I’m paying for my own stuff.”
“Mmhmm.”
I eye him. “Don’t be stupid.”
He just winks.
We walk further down the aisle. “So, you don’t have things to do other than lurk outside my hotel building in the middle of the night? Seems awfully similar to a guy I used to know that creeped outside of restaurants after dark.”
“Weird coincidence,” he remarks. “I normally go to bed after I get home, but we have the weekend off. Gives me time to get out.”
“And lurk?”
He eyes me. “I like to think of it as helping people in need.”
Wow. “So charitable these days.”
As we enter another aisle, a younger woman who’s carrying a red basket stops in the middle and stares in our direction. Corbin reaches for something in the clearance section without noticing, but I can’t help but watch the blonde woman’s lips part. He takes his glasses off and squints at the device hanging on the rack.
“Uh…” I tap Corbin’s shoulder.
He looks at me with his brows raised. I subtly gesture my head in the other direction and watch him turn to see what I’m trying to tell him. I think he curses softly under his breath.
“You’re Corbin Callum, right?” the woman says, still gawking.
I lean in and whisper, “Should have invested in a mustache.”
His shoulder bumps mine. “Hello,” he tells the woman with a charming smile.
I think she says something, but I can’t be sure. Her lips do a weird fish thing like she’s trying to gather her words. I try not to giggle, but it slips through.
Corbin walks over with a swagger to his strut that has me rolling my eyes. His sunglasses get clipped on the collar of his shirt before he reaches his free hand out to shake hers. For a few seconds, she just stares at it like she can’t believe someone like him is willing to touch her.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
Oh, for the love of—
The woman finally collects herself before taking his hand and holding onto it with both of hers. I nibble my lip to suppress my smile as they talk in low murmurs, trying to play it off and look through the odd and end items for sale. From the corner of my eye, I notice a few other people with cell phones gather on the other end of the aisle.
Nerves picking up, I try getting Corbin’s attention as he speaks to his fan. The others point their phones in his direction and murmur to each other. I grip the candy in my hand and keep my head down.
“Corbin,” I whisper as I walk casually closer to him. Pretending to browse the coffee mugs near me, I clear my throat. “Corbin. There is a crowd starting.”
He looks from the woman across the aisle and nods once with pressed lips. “It was nice meeting you, but I need to go.”
I take the opportunity to walk past them and toward the register. My headache is becoming worse by the second and I’m half tempted to just leave without worrying about the stuff we grabbed.
Corbin appears next to me and drops his items on the counter with mine and pulls out a few twenty-dollar bills. He drops it on the counter and asks the man working to bag quickly and keep the change.
I don’t try to argue with him about paying as he slides his glasses back on and accepts the bags before I can even reach for them.
His hand goes back to the small of my back as we walk toward the door. People call out his name and ask him to sign something for them, causing us both to pick up speed. My heart races so fast it hurts, and there’s a rush throughout my limbs that has me overheating in my jacket.
Once we’re inside the car, he makes quick to start it and back out of the space. “Are you okay?”
All I can do is stare out the windshield as he pulls into the crowded street. Someone honks and passes us, but not before holding up their middle finger in our direction. I lean back and grip the armrest next to me, trying to even my breathing.
“Breathe, Little Bird,” he directs softly.
I close my eyes and nod.
“You’re pale.”
“I don’t feel well.”
He curses and the bag rustles next to me. The bottle of tablets shakes and appears in my line of vision. My hand shakily reaches out and accepts them, struggling with the cap.