Page 20 of Petite Fleur

I get winded going up the stairs.

There's no way I'm making it home without breaking a sweat, probably panting, and losing all of my groceries.

This man leans down and snatches my bag up before I get the chance. He starts walking away with it before I can even form a thought as to why he took my things.

I follow behind this man, catching up as he walks toward the nicest car in the dang lot.

“You know, this works out great for me. Now I can sneak this extra gallon of apple cider into your car.” He teases.

He smiles charmingly, looking over his shoulder at me as we walk before focusing on where he's walking.

Dang, he's cute, and all I’m doing is staring.

Here we go again, say something!

Words! Say words, Maeve.

“Lucky for me, I don't have a car, and I don't think this bag can handle anything else. It's only holding on now by pure luck.” I finally blurt out.

This man stops, turning to stare at me and letting out an almost inaudible sigh. “You walked here? Fine, we'll walk back together. How far are you from home?” He asks.

I don't know much about stranger danger, but something tells me that letting the super cute guy in the rich man's car walk me home is a mistake.

This is how you end up smiling on a milk carton.

I don't even have any good pictures that my mom could use. I don't even know if she'd notice I was gone!

I'd probably already be made into a lampshade with my head in an empty ice cream bucket before she even realized I was missing.

"Oh, no, thank you, but I appreciate the offer!" I say sweetly.

I do, really. Nobody has ever offered to walk me home before. Nobody has ever offered to just give me a gallon of the best apple cider in the state before, but I have to be responsible.

The man slightly sighs, probably realizing how that came off. Most men are blind to how women are afraid of them, but he seems remorseful for doing anything to scare me.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. Can I make a counteroffer?" He asks.

I raise an eyebrow at this man. Are we negotiating? It's not exactly like I can say no. He still has my grocery bag hugged to his chest and for some reason, I'm still blindly following him.

"You can try." I say with a shrug.

“Walk with me back to my car, I promise not to kidnap you. You can stay several car lengths away, but I have some reusable bags in my car so your stuff won't fall out." He offers.

Actually, that sounds nice.

He seems nice.

Maybe I'm just being a butthead by being so cautious?

Crap, no.

I've always heard the nice ones are the ones to worry about.

I give a short nod, silently agreeing to this man's offer as I follow him to his car at the back of the crowded parking lot.

When we reach his fancy car, likely costing more than my tuition, he pulls out two very nice canvas bags for me.

He doesn't even wait before he starts loading my things into these bags without a word. All while I watch the muscles in his forearms flex with every movement and study the features of his face while he's not looking.