Page 75 of The Singles Club

Half jogging to the bedroom, I slipped on my sneakers. I looked in the mirror, and I saw a complete mess. My hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but the curls were unruly and wisps falling out everywhere. I hadn’t even bothered to blow dry or straighten my hair after my shower. My face was pale and makeup-free. And sweats. Ineverwent out in public in sweats.

My rule: Never leave the house until you look fabulous enough that you wouldn’t mind bumping into your worst enemy without a confident smile. Well, it was my mother’s rule, and it came in handy. But I really didn’t want to spend an hour or more getting dressed up just to go across the street for junk food.

I dug through my closet, searching for the Celtics cap Lucas had bought me when he took me to one of the games. After shoving it over my head, I opened my drawer to get out a pair of large sunglasses. I’d just go over there, grab the goods, and run back. No biggie. It’s not like I had paparazzi following me around.

As soon as I made it outside, the night was chillier than I’d expected, and I tucked my hands into my sweatshirt pockets. I waited for an SUV to go by before I sprinted across the street.

The pharmacy wasn’t that busy, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I headed straight to the candy section and grabbed a bag of Hershey’s Kisses, Snickers, and Butterfingers. With all three cradled in my arms, I power walked to the freezer section. Oh, French bread frozen pizza. I hadn’t had that since my dorm room days. I grabbed a box, rested it on top of the bags, and held it in place with my chin.

Okay. Häagen-Dazs, and then I’m out of here.

I got to the ice cream section and saw that my favorite ice cream brand had a new flavor: Rum Tres Leches. I grabbed one of those, tucked it under my arm, and went for the dulce de leche.

Regretting not getting a basket, I maneuvered my way toward the counter… and then it happened. My worst nightmare. With my arms overflowing with junk food and looking like complete and utter crap, Logan walked through the front door.

Not that I was crushing on him anymore, but I didnotwant him to see me in this state. He would tell my brother, and neither of them would ever let me live this down.

How could I be so stupid? Logan and Mia still lived in my father’s garden apartment.

I turned around, my chin still holding the pizza in place, and booked it down the aisle. The skin of my arm was beginning to sting from the cold coming off the ice cream, even through the fabric of my hoodie. I peeked around the corner and into another aisle. Clear. I ran at full speed, hoping to catch the cashier while Logan was busy shopping for whatever he was planning to get. I turned the corner and smashed into something hard… and human. Candy, ice cream, and pizza went flying.

“I’m sorry, let me help.”

Fuck. Logan.

“It’s fine,” I said quickly.

He knelt and grabbed my bag of Butterfingers and rum ice cream. “Vivian?”

I let out a sigh and looked up at him. “Yes.”

He laughed. “What’s with the getup?” He looked down at the candy in his and my hands. “Plan on going into a sugar coma or something?”

I snatched the Butterfingers from his hand. “None of your business.”

He got up and returned with a basket. “This should help.”

I begrudgingly accepted it. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He went for the pizza box and gave it to me, but this time he wasn’t laughing anymore. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

“Vivian, I have known you since you were thirteen years old, and I have never seen you go out in public like this.”

“Do they have Fritos here?” I looked around at the aisle signs.

“Vivian?”

“What?”

“I know we aren’t the best of friends, but if you need to talk, I’m here, and I’m sure Mia would have no problem if you needed a girl’s night alone. I can make myself scarce.”

“It’s a man,” I confessed and slipped off my sunglasses. “I’m confused because I’ve never felt this before for anyone… and I’m moving to Paris in two weeks.”

His brows rose, and mouth opened, but no words came out.

Why am I telling him all this?