“Whoa,” I say. “I guess manners aren’t completely dead.”
He shrugs with a crooked grin. “I try.” He grabs a shopping cart from one of the return areas and wheels it over to me.
“Are you shopping too?” I ask, falling into step beside him.
“No, but aren’t you going to need a cart?”
“Yes.”
“Then it gives me something to do.” He pushes it a bit faster and hops up onto it so he’s gliding along. He nears the automatic doors and I fear he’s going to crash into them. “I command you to open!” he yells, and they slide open just in time for him to roll inside. I breathe out a sigh of relief.
“You’re like a big kid, aren’t you?” I laugh.
“Eh, yeah, I guess so. I don’t see the point in acting like a stuffy old fart. Might as well have some fun with life. You’re only here once.” He jumps off the cart and wheels it over to the dollar section. “Need any notepads?” he asks, picking up a handful of the kind with magnets on the back.
“No,” I say, picking up some windmill type thing and flicking the ends with my finger.
“Too bad, you’re getting some,” he says and drops the notepads in the cart. I shake my head and move on. He pushes the cart behind me. “What are you here for? I’d say we should divide and conquer but I’m afraid of getting lost.”
I look back at him and he winks. “I need pillows, lights, a corkboard, a rug—”
“Basically you need the whole store?” he cuts me off.
I sigh. “Yes.”
“Okay, well, the home stuff is this way.” He turns the cart down an aisle, cutting through the kid’s clothes.
“How old are you?” I ask him.
“Grace—” he clucks his tongue “—don’t you know you’re never supposed to ask anyone their age? How scandalous of you.” I eye him, and he sighs. “I’m twenty-three.”
“Stop,” I tell him, spotting a clearance end cap. I pick up a fluffy white pillow and drop it in the cart.
He eyes the pillow with distaste. “That looks like an animal.”
I raise a brow. “Did I ask for your opinion?”
“Well, no.”
“Exactly,” I say, looking over the other clearance items. There are a few candles I’d love to grab, but they’re a fire hazard so I have to refrain. Bennett follows behind me as I turn down the pillow aisle. I pick a few more.
“Do you really need so many?” he asks. I glare at him. “Right.” He raises his hands innocently. “You don’t want my opinion. Zipping my lips.”
I move on to the rug aisle and choose a plush white rug. I should probably ask Elle if she likes it before I buy it since it’s our room, but since she’s not here and she’s too much of a bitch for me to care about her opinion, I go to put it in the cart anyway.
“Hey, let me help.” Bennett jumps into action, grabbing the rug from my hands and stuffing it in the cart. There isn’t much room now.
“Thanks,” I say.
“No problem.” He smiles.
“So,” I say as we head further into the home décor, “you like sour patch kids. What else should I know about you?”
He grins. “My favorite color is red.”
“The color of blood?” I laugh.
“No,” he says with a wicked grin. “The color of love.”