“Good morning…uh…Amy, could you direct me to the produce section?” Ben asked, cordially. “Yeah…two rows to your left; in the back,” her...soft voice said. He thanked her and led me to our destination. As we left, I glanced back and saw her watching us, intently. A streak of green jealousy surrounded me, and I moved closer to Ben. There was no way in hell that I was gonna let her take him away. We stopped next to a deep freezer, and he lifted me up, sitting me on the top. Icy coldness numbed my. ‘Can’t handle the heat, stay outta the kitchen!’ Dan responded, flicking an eyebrow at me as he patted me on the back hard. He couldn’t believe he’d won, either. That was a bullshit Strike Spree at the end and we both knew it, but he knew it’d piss me off to gloat about it, so gloating about it was the only thing he did. He wore the same thing he always wore: Light denim jeans, a black t-shirt and an unbuttoned flannel. I’d told him it made him look like a Lumberjack or a hipster, but he didn’t. More

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