"Honey, it's not that hard of a decision." Janine grabs a pink bottle, pops the top, and inhales, her eyes fluttering back in her head. "I go by smell and smell alone. With my shampoo and my men." She laughs and places the shampoo back on the shelf then grabs another bottle. "Oh, or you can go by the name. 'Big Sexy Hair.'" She smiles. "Anything with sex in the name sells me." She tosses the bottle into the shopping cart. "There you go. All done. We can leave now."
Using her hip, Janine nudges her way between the cart and me and starts down the aisle toward the checkout. I grab the buggy, pushing it beside her, watching men eye us as we pass by. Janine pulls off the professional workingwoman thing when she wants to, but she does so with a touch of sexuality. Her blouse is always undone one button too low. Her pencil skirts are tight, clinging to curves most women would die for. And she has that fuck-me glance down.
We stop at checkout line nine. Janine snaps her fingers. The bag boy runs around the counter, immediately unloading the items from the buggy onto the conveyor belt, a huge smile plastered over his face as he stares at me. Why me instead of Janine, I have no idea…
"So you just wanted out of that cabin, didn't you, honey?" A knowing smile crosses her face, and she shrugs. "Has he been an asshole again?"
"Uh, no. Actually, he's been nice, like overly nice."
Her brows knit together. "Nice? EA… nice?"
I nod, my gaze drifting off to the rack of tabloids. There's a moment of silence, with the exception of the constant beep from the cashier scanning the groceries.
"Huh," Janine says, placing her hand on her hip and turning around to face me. I glance at her, and she's giving me a once-over, a slight grin creeping over her red lips. "Well, EA, maybe you aren't asexual after all." She chuckles before spinning back around.
I push the cart to the end of the line. "What?" I take my wallet from my purse and hand the cashier my debit card.
"I thought he was one of those guys who just didn't have sex or, you know, maybe just was happy using his hand, a bottle of Vaseline Intensive Care, and a sock."
"Oh, God, Janine…"
The cashier's eyes widen. She glances between Janine and me as she hands me the receipt.
"Wonder what kind of porn that one's into."
"I don't want to know. I don't need to know." I shake my head.
The bag boy takes charge of the shopping cart. Janine and I follow him out of the automatic doors to the parking lot. The sun is just beginning to lower in the gray autumn sky, and the chill in the air makes my skin prickle.
"Look at you." Janine elbows me in the side just before we stop behind the trunk of her car. "Catching the eye of Mr. Happy himself." She giggles so hard she snorts. "I mean, he may be an asshole, but he is a good-looking man. Can't deny that. And the quiet ones are always the ones that'll pull your hair and give you a good choking."
"There's no way in hell—"
"Oh, come on."
"Shit, Janine. Have you slept him or something?"
"I mean, I won't say it didn't cross my mind a time or two after a bottle of vodka." A snarl slowly forms over her lips. "Debated it heavily one time. I blame tequila for that one, but I don't shit where I eat, you know? That causes way too much of a mess." She shrugs. "You? You write this book with him, and you don't have to ever see him again. You could fuck him the last night you're there. Tell me if it's any good then go on your merry way knowing you got piped down by a New York Times best seller. I mean, it's just sex, you know? And if it's good sex…"
"Yeah, I'll pass," I mumble, staring at her. I'm amazed at how blunt she is, but I’m more confused by the fact that she's trying to talk me into sleeping with the creeper.
The bag boy finishes unloading the groceries then slams the trunk. “You okay, ma’am? Need any more help?”
I shake my head, hand him a ten, and he leaves with a smile.
“I don’t feel like driving. I’ve got a headache from hell that only alcohol can cure.” Janine moans and tosses me her keys. “Do you mind?”
Shaking my head, I climb into the car and crank the engine.
Janine slams the passenger side door and gently squeezes my thigh, a deadpan look on her face. "Tell me, are you asexual, honey?"
"What?"
"I mean, you've been up here for a few weeks. EA's got a hard-on for you, and you aren't interested. Then that sex-on-legs in the bar—Pax, Jax, whatever the hell his name was—was it Jax?"
I nod.
"Well," she says with a snort, "you couldn't have seemed more disinterested."
I shake my head. "What? I don't know how I could've been more obvious." I think back to the blatant way I was staring at him, and my cheeks grow warm with embarrassment.
"Really? Oh, honey." She pats my face. "Going all googly-eyed at a man? Is that the best you got?" She sighs as I put the car in reverse. "You authors are such a weird breed. You'd think with overactive imaginations like you people have to have that you'd be able to woo the robe off a Tibetan monk." She sighs. "Jesus, I could only imagine how awkward an actual relationship between two socially challenged authors like you and EA would be." She shudders a little.
"You know, I feel like I should be offended by that."
"Probably," she laughs. "You said EA had been nice. Why don't you tell me what EA has done that qualifies as 'nice,' because I am really intrigued to see what his wooing abilities are like."