“Yeah, hummingbird. Colibri. You kinda remind me of one.”
He felt like an idiot as those words hung between them.
She looked bewildered. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “They’re these little colorful birds that flutter around and hum. And, you know, you’re kinda the same way.”
Her cheeks flushed. “You heard me?”
“I’ve heard you a few times. It’s, uh . . .” He didn’t know what to say. “What song is it?”
“It’s something my mama used to sing.”
She fidgeted, averting her eyes. Her sweatpants and tank top were splattered with soapy water, her hair all over the place.
“You should get dressed,” he suggested. “We have somewhere to go, and I’m sure you’d rather put on something else.”
She eyed him skeptically. “Okay.”
She lingered for a moment before heading upstairs. He rolled his tense shoulders as he silently berated himself, wishing he’d loosen up around her. His anxiety fueled hers, and the last thing he wanted was for her to avoid him again.
It only took Haven a few minutes to return, wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He opened the front door, and Haven hesitated in the doorway before stepping on the porch. After engaging the alarm and locking up, he helped her into his car. She thanked him softly when he climbed into the driver’s side, her eyes darting around as they drove. “Where are we going?”
Carmine opened the center console, looking for his list, before motioning toward the glove compartment. “Check in there for a piece of paper.”
She did what he said, shifting things around, and blushed when she pulled out a small black box. Carmine groaned, realizing she’d found the condoms he kept in the car.
“Christ, I forgot they were in there.” He snatched them from her hand and rolled down the window in a panic, tossing them out along the side of the road. He ignored her incredulous look, not wanting to have to explain, and waved her back to the glove compartment.
Haven searched again, grabbing a piece of notebook paper. “Is this it?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Read it.”
Wide-eyed, she stammered over some of the words. “Uh, chips . . . pret—uh, pretzels . . . soda . . . Are we going to a store?”
“Yes. That’s what we need for the party. While we’re there, we’ll stock up the house. You know, kill two birds with one stone.”
* * *
When they made it to the store, Haven’s footsteps faltered as the doors opened on their own. She surveyed them, almost as if she was afraid to go through. Carmine waited for her to grab a cart, but she just stood there.
“Have you been grocery shopping much?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’ve never been inside a store.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
This would be more complicated than he thought. “I can’t say I’ve ever done this either. I’m not usually trusted, so I guess we’ll figure this shit out together.”
Haven tried to hand him the paper, but he instead handed her a pen. “You do the list. Practice makes perfect, right?”
Before she could argue, he grabbed a cart and led her to the produce section. “I have another confession. I can’t say I’ve ever cooked either, so I have no idea what half this shit is.” He picked up a green stalk and eyed it skeptically. “What the fuck is this?”
She smiled. “Those are Brussels sprouts.”
“Definitely not buying them,” he said, throwing the stalk down on the display.