Page 19

Shit.

There’s a rip. My jeans burst at the seams. My legs transform into tentacles and ruin my clothing, and I curse, trying to stay still as the transformation happens in order to keep the front of my pants intact and preserve a little of my modesty.

Olivia’s wide eyes practically bug out of her face, but at least she stops crying. “Oh god. I’m sorry.”

I’m fuming, but I really have no one to blame but myself. “It’s fine.”

“Oh, your clothes.” She bends as if she’s going to put my jeans back together by hand, and of course my cock and tentacles all jump to attention, the glowing tips of every limb that’s not absolutely necessary to keep me upright coiling toward my fated mate.

Not that I believe in that bullshit. Just obviously my body has other ideas.

“Really. It’s fine.” I move back as far as I can make myself, and Olivia straightens.

There’s an awkward pause as we look at each other. Her lip wobbles and my anger rises again.

“Really, what the fuck are you doing here, Zeston?”

She tips her head, the motion drawing my gaze to a rack of magazines behind her. I narrow my eyes, trying to read the headline before it dawns on me.

That asswipe in the photo on the front cover is her ex-boyfriend.

And yeah, I did some Google stalking. That does not mean I’m interested in her or I care about her situation. I just wanted to reassure myself that the guy’s an idiot and he deserved to lose her.

That’s all.

“Oh shit.” I look closer, spotting the woman in the photo. “Is that her?”

Olivia nods and her eyes well with tears again.

For fuck’s sake. I’m making this worse.

Any moment Brenda from Mum’s book club is going to come into the aisle and spot me standing here in ruined clothes, berating Olivia while she cries, and next thing you know I’ll be sitting through a three-hour lecture at my parents’ kitchen table or, worse, an intervention with my older brothers. I barely dodged her in aisle nine when I came in.

It sure is hell having two charming, perfect older brothers who both act like the sun shines out their asses and butter wouldn’t melt on their fins.

“Well fuck.”

At that moment a trolley rounds the corner of aisle five, but it’s not Brenda at the helm. Oh no. Far worse.

It’s my older brother, Jack. He has his head turned, looking at rolls of toilet paper on the far side of the supermarket, so I have about thirty seconds to act.

I can hardly leave Olivia standing here weeping in the middle of the supermarket, but I can’t let Jack see this. He’ll assume the worst. That I’ve made her cry—haven’t I?—that this is yet another girl who got the wrong idea about me despite me saying a hundred times I don’t do relationships.

I glance down to where my glowing tentacles are still trying to touch every part of Olivia I can reach and realize just how dire the situation is. My brother will get some stupid idea in his head about what that means and I’ll never hear the end of it.

“Come on.” I put my hand around Olivia and instantly regret it. It makes all my tentacles seethe harder toward her, and I have to grit my teeth and force them away from her ass and thighs. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“But I need breakfast!”

I swivel my head to stare down at her in astonishment. “Breakfast? I thought I kept mad hours. It’s almost two o’clock.”

Her jaw drops.

Shaking my head, I tow her toward the exit. “I’ll cook you something.” I don’t really need groceries today. I have plenty in the pantry. Not knowing what else to do, I hustle her out of the store and onto my bike.

Why the fuck did I make that promise?

I’ll blame it on the pressure of not letting Jack know my secret. I’d rather not admit that the thought of taking her homeand feeding her feeds something buried deep inside me. That the thought of helping stop those tears and rescue her from her mini-crisis is satisfying to me on a level I didn’t think I was capable of any longer.