Ouch. I thought I had gotten that one past her with all the drinking last night. “Hey, you wanted me to go to a party with you. I went. Just because I spent part of the night hanging out with Jackson doesn’t mean I didn’t have a good time. I did. The party was a little too much for me.”
“You can totally make it up to me if you make the famous Hewett Hangover cure for me. I could really use some help this morning.”
“I’ve got you covered. Let me run out to grab a few things from the store, and I will wake you back up as soon as it’s ready. Get some more rest. I wouldn’t want you to ruin a perfectly good day with a hangover,” I said as I walked towards the door, snagging my keys off the dresser on my way.
“Love you, Lex,” I heard Aubrey mumble tiredly.
****
I found a parking spot for my beloved car, a cherry red Mini Cooper with a white racing stripe. My dad surprised me with it on my sixteenth birthday. The car seemed like an odd match for my personality since it was so girly, but nobody knew the inside story. We used to do movie night at least once a week, usually action movies since my dad couldn’t stomach chick flicks. One of our favorites was The Italian Job, and I loved the part where they modified the Mini Coopers for a robbery. We must have watched that movie a dozen times together, and I always giggled at the thought of those tiny cars hauling gold bars away at top speeds. Now, whenever I drive my car, I am reminded of movie nights with him.
Damn, the grocery store was packed for a Saturday morning. I only needed to grab a couple things, but it looked like this wasn’t going to be quick. I really hated shopping, even at the grocery store. It was just my luck that it would be so busy. And here I was, in my old ratty sweats I had worn to bed last night. At least I didn’t have to worry about impressing anybody here. One advantage to growing up in a college town is that all us townies knew each other pretty well. Everyone had seen me looking a lot worse than this at least once in my life.
I grabbed a basket off the stack by the carts and darted towards the produce section to grab some bananas, strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries for the smoothies. My dad’s famous hangover cure was pretty simple, but they seemed to work wonders. He always said that the almonds helped settle your stomach and the berries aided in detoxing the liver. Throw in a banana for extra potassium and you were good to go. I had made my fair share for him over the years when he’d hosted poker nights for his friends. He needed to be bright-eyed the morning after so he’d be safe to fly.
Once I had grabbed the fruit and almonds I needed, I headed over to the spices aisle to pick up some vanilla extract and cinnamon. I wasn’t sure what all was stocked in the kitchen on our floor, so I needed to buy some just in case. As I rounded the corner of the aisle, I glanced into my basket, trying to decide if I should get some more ingredients so I could make smoothies for Faith and Natalie too. It would be a nice gesture and a chance to try to connect with them.
“Oomph!” I grunted as I walked into someone’s back. “I am so sorry,” I started to apologize. I lifted my gaze from my basket to the person I had knocked into and realized it was the guy from the party the night before. And then I quickly discovered that he was even hotter close up. It sure didn’t hurt that he was dressed in pressed khakis and another polo shirt—dark green this time. And here I was, dressed like a homeless person.
He had turned towards me while I was lost in thought and his hands wrapped around my arms to help steady me. His dark brown eyes twinkled at me as he smiled in response to my apology. He smirked at me with a half-grin that showed off the dimple in his left cheek.
“No problem. I was kind of hogging the aisle while I figured out which way to go to find greeting cards,” he said.
“Oh, you can find those across the aisle a few rows that way,” I offered while pointing in the direction of the card aisle. His hands felt like they were burning through my clothes as they gripped my arms. I stared at his full lips as I spoke. It was so hard to pull my gaze away from his lips—they just seemed to be begging for a kiss.
“Thanks. I know this sounds like a bad pick-up line, but don’t I know you from somewhere? I’m Drake Bennett,” he asked.
“What? Um, yeah, you do. I was at the Sig Chi party last night. I think you know Jackson? He’s—” I started to respond, stopping when his hands dropped from my arms abruptly and his eyes lost the warmth they had only moments ago. What the hell was up with that? He and Jackson had looked friendly enough last night.
“Right. I remember. Better grab that card. See you around,” Drake offered as he walked away. Well, so much for chatting up the hot guy at the grocery store. Funny, right? Like he would ever even flirt back. He was way out of my league, even when I looked my best like last night. Looking like I did today, I was surprised he even spoke to me at all. I could be such an idiot sometimes.