I Can't Own You? (BOOK 1)

6

PLAY MUSIC

In a semi-full Walmart, I groove to throwback Thursday songs. Lip syncing the lyrics of "Umbrella" by Rihanna, with much star power. I strut with the buggy, performing ballet twirls and kicks, perfectly on cue with the beat. Sam giggles adorably as I catwalk down each aisle. "You're insane."

"I knoooowwww." I model down the hygiene aisle throwing deodorant and razors into the buggy as if playing basketball. In the next aisle, I toss in body wash and shampoo. "We need to get a bunch of shit before this card gets canceled." I sprint to the face soap aisle and fill my arms up with Biore products. I wobble back to the buggy, my arms outstretched like an eagle with all the items: face scrubs, nose strips, cleansers, and lotions.

After getting hella shit from the hygiene area, to the graphic tee aisle I go! The girls one. I'm small, okay? "I like that one." Sam points at an artsy one with a blue moon on a pale environment. At the bottom, it reads BREATHE.

"Hmm, yea, it's cool." I grab it and toss it into the cart. "Get you something, come on with ya big ass you can't fit anything over here."

"I'm good."

I put my hands on my hips. "It's free money...like duh, get shit."

"Chris-"

"Don't blow me." I take the buggy and ride it away from him, lifting my shoes onto the bar on the bottom. The buggy's wheels streak on mucked up floors. I kick to add more speed. A light drift hits my face, cooling my skin. I smile like a badass kid, ignoring judgmental looks from customers. I turn the corner into the men's aisle and halt the buggy like a race car. A group of three guys stop at the sound of the buggy's squeaking. I saved them from getting knocked the fuck out! I laugh, that short anxious laugh? Yeah, that one. My hair falls onto my face as I hop down from the cart...again, feeling like an 80's diva. "My bad," I say lightly.

One of them eyes my boobs through the big shirt I have on. I look down, oh shit, they're all basic, and these kind of guys don't stop. Each one is uninteresting and sloppily dressed, two are out of shape, and one is slim. The heavyset ones were total gamers. Their dungeons and dragons t-shirts gave that away. They were blonde and brown-haired with loads of acne, and a cart of snacks and soda. The slim one was the best option, if I had to choose between them, a simple blonde guy, a low budget Austin Ames from A Cinderella Story. Despite that, I wasn't interested in hooking up in Walmart. I search around desperately, badly in need of an ex machina.

"Hey," ripoff Austin begins. "You here by yourself?"

This shocks me. They seem like the type who only had the guts to try to flirt with a girl through a dating app. You know the kind that is out of your league yet still hits up your DM's?

I put on my girly voice. "No, I'm here with my boyfriend." As if sensing my need of rescuing, from behind, Sam turns the corner. I cringe at the awkward stare he gives the guys. A stupid macho claim. Ugh...guys. Plus, we're over as a couple, so he needs to dial it back some. I slyly point to my side, playing along. Sam stands by my side, wrapping an arm around the small of my back, letting his fingers rest on the waistband of my leggings. He tugs me closer. Okay, too much man...chill. "Come on, babe." I poke in the cheesiest tone ever. Sam gets all cocky at the saying of "babe.", I spot his posture strengthen.

Oh shit, I milked the cow for sure; now I need to fix it; if not, Sam will bring this hiccup to light later. I roll the buggy forward, passing the guys, giving a wink to the best looking one. This will shut Sam down. I lead the buggy to the men's area, taking his hand from my waist. A straight-up rip off the band-aid move.

Sam places his hands in his pocket as a recovery tactic. "Did you have to wink?" I detect irritation in his voice.

"One of them was cute."

The last things to hit the buggy were more graphic tees, headphones, an iPhone, pizza, Little Debby snacks, cheese puffs, cookie dough ice cream, breakfast food, and wine coolers.

Junk errday bish.

At the self-checkout line, Sam and I ring up the food, swiping it over the red light; hearing the excessive beeping. I stop halfway and flag down a cashier. "Umm, I forgot my card, so can I just put in the information?"

The cashier thinks on it for a moment, a little old lady. "I don't think that's allowed, miss."

"I'll get it. Don't worry, thank you anyway." Sam takes out his wallet and pulls out a credit card from a row of eight. The cashier nods apologetically and continues to patrol the area, going away from us and surveying other customers who use the self-scan.

"Why did you do that?! I can get this off the card."

"You said he found out where you lived; he most likely has a tracker for whenever you use it."

"This is too much money for you to spend." Especially since we're not together romantically. I sulk, straining my neck back to stare up at his tall ass. Sam takes a long look at me, either fed up with my stubbornness or secretly adoring it. I can't tell. "This is Walmart; once he gets in here, it'll be too many suspects. I'm using it." I scan the last item from the cart. "I'll write a check." That site gave me the routing and account information, so I can."

"Chris, don't!"