Chapter Two

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Katana

"I can't believe you have no idea what Formula One is. You're like a disgrace to Miami." Camryn continues to lecture me about my lack of knowledge while I do my best to focus on the incredibly difficult latte art in front of me. Why is it so hard to make a simple heart?

"It can't be that serious, why do you care so much anyways? You've never even mentioned it before." I ask while she's criticizing my horrible, I'll admit, latte art.

"The Miami Grand Prix has always been a big deal, you just haven't been here during it. Good thing I already got us weekend passes! You will be a whole new woman after this weekend."

"How do you know that I don't have plans?" I don't but I might.

"With who? Moose? Leave the poor cat alone for five minutes, he needs a break from you." Sadly, I think she's right. Moose seems fed up with our Love Island marathons lately.

After Cam talked my ears off about this weekend, she then made me pinky promise her that I wouldn't google anything about Formula One so I didn't "spoil the surprise." I have no idea what the hell that's supposed to mean but I'm running with it.

Looking at the clock, I realize my shift is over in fifteen minutes, so I start prepping extra food and cleaning myself up. Once 2 pm hit, I was clocking out and thanking the heavens that Target wasn't busy. It sucks when the aisles are crammed full of people to find anything.

The baskets are next to the Starbucks entrance, so I take one and make my way to the grocery section. There are slim pickings currently as they haven't gotten their delivery, but things are still fairly easy to find. The smell of the bakery floods the entire store and makes everyone hungry as you breathe in the smell of freshly baked cookies and donuts. It never gets old, and it always ends up making me get more snacks than I can eat. Not many people are in the store so a lot of the aisles are empty, leaving me and the food to ourselves. The radio station plays Ariana Grande's "Everytime" and I mumble along while looking for some fresh limes in the large pyramid of overripe fruit.

After grabbing the limes, I decided to treat myself and wander over to the alcohol section. I'm mostly alone in this aisle except for the walls of liquor and one person at the other end in a black hoodie with the hood up. Suspicious but okay. He's wearing black Nike Air Force Ones and gray sweatpants breaking up the pool of darkness, but I can't make out much of his face with his back turned towards me. He's not looking in my direction, but I can tell that he's tall based on how he reaches for things on the top shelf with no problems. Definitely jealous.

I scour the walls for my favorite cheap tequila, what can I say, it's my weakness. Any other alcohol makes me sick, but Jose Cuervo is my own personal hype man. They must have just reorganized the shelves because the tequila is all the way on the other side of the aisle. Just my luck, the person is standing right where I need. If I get murdered, it's totally Camryn's fault. Looking past him, I can see that the drink I want is all the way at the top. Of course.

"Hey, can you help me grab this?" I ask. He jumps slightly as if he didn't see me standing five feet away from him. When he turns towards me I notice the sharpness of his jaw paired with a bit of scruffy facial hair. He has green eyes that work with his short, messy brown hair. It looks almost as if it has a slight curl, but he also just ran his fingers through it. It's definitely a look that suits him. His eyes search mine as he licks his lips before saying, "Uhh sure?" as a question rather than the statement it should have been.

Turning to grab the bottle, he looks back at me to ensure that it was the correct one. I nod in agreement and when he turns back towards the shelf, his side profile gives me a sense of recognition. Something about him seems so familiar but not at all.

"Thank you, you look really familiar," I say, hoping to get a bit of insight as to who he is. Immediately, you see him withdraw into his hood and look around almost paranoid-like.

"No pictures please, I am just here to shop," he says in an accent that I can't necessarily place right now. Confused, I start to ask what he means, but then I realize.

"Pict- wait! You almost hit me with your car earlier! The black Ferrari!" I whisper-yell. His face immediately changes to what looks like amusement. I see his mouth turn upward into a smirk as he tries to hold in a laugh.

"In what world is this funny, you're probably the worst driver I've seen since moving here. Seriously, what person can own a Ferrari and not know how to yield?" I ask, blatantly upset at his reaction.

"Wait, that's where you know me from?" he asks, amused with a twinge of confusion.

"Where else would I know you from, Romeo?" As soon as the words come out of my mouth, his eyebrows pinch together and his head tilts just slightly. In my defense, he has a random accent and despite his horrible driving skills, he is one fine man so Romeo it is.

"Romeo?" he questions. "First of all, my light was still green. Let me make it up to you by buying this bottle." His voice comes out as if he's trying to keep from laughing in my face. It was at that moment I realized he was still holding the tequila that I asked him to grab. However, the least he could do is buy me a drink if he's going to run me over in his expensive car. "Fine." I say, "but only because you almost killed me."

He chuckles lightly and we both turn to leave before he stops and glances at me. "Are you even old enough for this? You have to be 21 in the states to buy alcohol right?"

"Ouch. I'm 23 for one, and two, what is wrong with you? Try to kill me and then you insult me." I put my hand up and turn my head before walking back toward the checkout. What a jerk.

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