ADDICTED

32

LEAH

Shuffling after Isabelle, I grunted with each shirt, dress, and pair of shoes thrown into my arms. The stack of clothes was intolerable now—I could hardly see over the last pair of heels resting on top. I spotted an empty shopping cart and hustled over to it before Isabelle could load me up again.

We'd been shopping around this store for over an hour at this point, going back and forth between the dressing rooms and sales racks. I had to admit the prices here were crazy good. A good bargain was too enticing for even my distracted mind to pass up.

Throughout the day, I found my thoughts drifting to the man who shall not be named. I cursed myself every time and tried to bury my focus in finding new shoes or a flattering dress. And when I'd tell myself that something would be perfect for a first date, I refused to let guilt of imagining anyone but James get to me.

Well, I tried to refuse, at least.

My heart and my body were on very different pages and they were both currently ignoring each other right now. The attraction I felt toward him was consuming me. After convincing myself for so long that no man would ever like whet my appetite like Jarrod, finding myself gravitating toward someone felt like a cure.

But why does the cure to my madness have to be his brother?

I was still daydreaming of his daring eyes and self-assured smirk hair when I realized I was staring through the storefront window. My eyes fell on a young couple standing on the sidewalk outside.

The man had dark hair, golden skin, and dark-wash jeans and the woman wore skin-tight jeans and a sweater. Her head was enshrouded with kinky black curls that kept me from seeing her face.

As I was mentally complimenting them, the woman shifted and I could see the man's face. Timothy's face, to be precise.

The woman's hair danced as she shook with laughter. Tim reached out to touch her shoulder, a broad smile on his face.

My stomach sank. Maybe they were relatives. Or friends. Or lovers.

I couldn't take it. Spinning around, I searched every aisle for Isabelle's head of iron-straight, dark hair.

She was scrutinizing the zipper on a pair of heeled boots when I found her. Dashing across the store, nearly killing multiple people with my cart, I tried to decide how to explain what I'd just witnessed without making it more or less worse.

How I could tell her what I saw without coming off wrong? It could mean nothing. I hoped it meant nothing. That nagging feeling was back, though, and I had oblige.

If I was wrong, then fine. I'd take the blame for jumping to conclusions. If I wasn't, though, Isabelle needed to know.

"What?" Isabelle asked as she took in my breathless appearance. "You better have found fucking god for all effort."

I sucked in a long inhale and then released it. "Uh, I just saw Tim. Outside the store."

Her nose scrunched. "Did you? That's weird. I mean, I did invite him but he said he was busy."

"Well . . . is it possible he was hanging out with some friends?"

"What? I don't know," she said, squinting at me. "What's going on, Leah?"

"He wasn't alone." I scratched at my neck, blushing at how stupid I felt.

The woman was probably just his friend and I was throwing drama and stress at poor Isabelle.

What the hell is wrong with me?

"What do you mean?" she asked slowly, like she didn't want to know the answer.