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Adam regretted every single one of his life choices that had led him here, at this very moment, to this very Target.
He’d heard about Black Friday, of course, what American didn’t know about it. But none of his myriad jobs over the years had actually been in retail so he’d apparently missed the finer nuances of the madness that came over shoppers on the day after Thanksgiving as they searched for a sale and scrambled for a deal. He hadn’t had to buy Christmas presents for anyone, really, so he’d missed out on a lot of the insanity.
Now, Adam couldn’t believe he’d rolled his eyes and laughed at other workers when they’d shared their war stories of surviving Black Friday. Never again, he swore. They all deserved a raise plus trauma pay.
He arrived at Target a few minutes after it opened at 5 a.m., foolishly and naively believing that he could sneak in and out before the rush with his eagerly anticipated prize.
Instead he arrived to a full parking lot, been lucky to find a spot in the Dunkin Donuts lot at the end of the huge plaza then walked about a quarter mile to the Target entrance where there was still a crush of people trying to get in at 5:05 a.m.
He snagged a shopping cart, one of the small ones, from its forlorn home alone on one of the parking lot islands with some courteous thought of reuniting it with its brethren and saving the poor cart worker a long walk, but instead, he clung to it like a shipwreck survivor to a piece of driftwood in a churning sea.
Even as he finally fought his way through the doors, a woman grabbed the side of his cart and said, ignoring the evidence of her own eyes, “Are you using this?”
“Yes,” Adam said politely, and then had to less politely pull away and keep moving when it seemed like she would argue.
When he was approached by an even ruder woman with the same demand not 10 feet away who said, “If you’re using it, why’s it empty?” Adam figured his best defense was to just keep moving.
It might have been harder to maneuver the aisles with the cart, but he clutched the handle as it offered him a small buffer against the crowd that swarmed everywhere.
This was his Target, the one he normally shopped in, so he knew exactly where he was going, and maybe it was only that knowledge that saved him—from murder, either being the victim or perpetrator, or at the very least from grievous bodily harm, again either as harmer or harmee.
He’d heard at least two shouting matches by the time he cut through the men’s department on the way to his goal. Then he got distracted for a second because men’s clothing was much less busy and because that was a really, really good deal on a pack of briefs. He pulled one off the rack, chucked it into his cart, and kept moving.
Even though Adam was finally through college and finally had a good job in his field, along with a very competitive salary, he maintained careful and thorough control over his finances. Even a year ago, he wouldn’t have disobeyed his budget for a heavily discounted pack of new underwear without first going through his own briefs and figuring out how long they would wear.
For the first time in his life, he was working only one job—well, he had gone into the garage on a couple weekends just when they were swamped and someone called off—and he knew he had more than enough to cover his rent, utilities, student loan payments, put some into savings for emergencies and long-term investments for the future.
But he couldn’t ever imagine not worrying about money. Just walking into a Target on Black Friday and shopping randomly, without any research, just buying anything that struck his fancy was not to be considered.
That was why he was there, after all. He was after his one splurge, his crazy idea of buying himself something for Christmas for the first time ever.
During his last year of college when he had roommates who were busy too and rarely around, Adam had discovered the joys of a slow cooker. He’d rescued his roommate’s from the dusty cupboard out of curiosity in the fall, looked up a couple simple recipes and tried it. And it had been good. Really good.
There was something wonderful about putting in raw ingredients in the morning before class and getting home that evening to the amazing smells of home cooking along with the, as he experimented more and more, flavorful good taste. Plus, he could make huge portions and have leftovers, even after feeding roommates who begged with puppy dog eyes and agreed to buy more groceries.
And after delving into some weird recipe blogs and skimming over some truly TMI stories to get to the recipes, he found out the best secret of slow cooking—he could use the cheapest meat, the least expensive cuts, and the slow process actually made them more delicious than the expensive stuff that he wouldn’t bring himself to buy.
It was some magical shit.
His roommate had actually gifted him the slow cooker at graduation, in thanks for keeping him fed during the year and especially during finals. Adam had actually accepted the gift because he was pretty sure it’d been a secondhand family cooker passed down to the roommate in the first place. But although it was ugly, it still worked.
And now that he was working long hours, it still chugged along, providing him affordable meals when he got home after a long day.
But Adam had continued to experiment and read, and he’d heard about the latest and newest great kitchen necessity, an Instant Pot. Although he’d dismissed it as bullshit, the more he read about it and learned from bloggers he trusted who weren’t into fads, he became fascinated.
He could vastly expand his still pretty basic kitchen skills with one, and even continue to use cheaper meats to make entire meals. So Adam did what Adam did best—he researched.
He’d spent the summer reading reviews, making notes, comparing product specs and details, checking different shopping websites, setting up price alerts to find the absolute best Instant Pot for him and his needs, at the best price. Many national stores even had their own special deals to offer extras to sweeten the deal.
So when his alert pinged that Target was offering the very Instant Pot he desired, and it was only $59.99, Adam couldn’t believe it. That was $70 off the normal price. He’d never seen such a deep discount for the size and features he wanted.
The only problem was that the deal was for Black Friday only and only available in the store, not online.
And so Adam had set his alarm and got up early, figuring to swing by Target, run in and buy his new purchase, then hit a drive thru to celebrate with a fast food breakfast before going back home and getting ready for work.
Instead, he found he’d entered a war zone.
He’d thought maybe he could enter kitchenwares from the back, that it would be less crowded, but everywhere was crowded. Adam just tried to keep his cart from hitting anyone while mumbling “Excuse me, I’m sorry, excuse me” as he kept moving.
Then he saw it. They’d apparently moved the special Instant Pots from the normal aisle to the end cap and there was, of fucking course, a crowd in front of it, but Adam was tall enough to see over most of the shoppers and he could see there were still boxes there.
By the time he’d pushed his own way forward, there was only box left and it was right in front of him. He grabbed it, wrapped his arms around the large box, not caring if his elbow hit that lady or not because she was way too close anyway, and tried to straighten up but he couldn’t because there were two big hands on the sides of the box above his.
Adam pulled toward himself, and the hands pulled in the opposite direction. Adam straightened finally but the big hands didn’t give up and yanked harder.
He looked across the box into icy blue eyes and said clearly, “Excuse me, this is mine.”
“I think the fuck not. It’s mine,” the man said, tugging again.
“Excuse you. I had it first.”
“I touched it first,” the man argued.
“You couldn’t have. The angle’s all wrong from where you’re standing.”
“Wow, I didn’t know I had to bring some physics or shit into it,” the man snapped. “I had my hands on the box when you stole it away from me.”
“Clearly you didn’t,” Adam snugged his arms around the box more tightly as the man pulled harder. “Just go find another one.”
“There aren’t any more. That one’s mine.”
“No, it’s not.”
Adam didn’t want to get into a fight. He was decidedly against physical violence. But something about this guy really pissed him off, and the constant push of the crowd against him wasn’t helping his strung out nerves any.
They must have looked ridiculous to an outsider, two tall grown men clogging the end of the aisle in small kitchen appliances, Adam with his arms around the box, the man with his hands now on the top and bottom of the box.
So when the guy leaned over the top of the box and snarled, “Am I going to have to fight you for it?” Adam’s fight, flight or freeze reaction was to let go of the box. Then he stiffened his spine because fuck this guy.
“If you really want to turn to violence in the middle of this Target, I won’t stop you. But I will file charges that will cost you a shitload more than another Instant Pot,” he snarled back.
The guy reared back just a little and Adam almost smiled. But the man just turned his head and shouted, “Matthew! Prepare the chariot of war!”
From somewhere down the main aisle of housewares came a yell of “Yeehaw!” and then thundering footsteps Adam could actually hear over the din of the crowd. He wasn’t about to let go now.
The thunder came closer until suddenly there was a loud yelp, a woman shouting “Watch where you’re going young man!” and then the clanging ring of a shopping cart running into the metal shelves of an end cap.
“Matthew, what the fuck?!” the guy yelled and Adam tensed, waiting for him to let go of the box in his shock or confusion.
But he only rolled his eyes and turned his head, still maintaining a firm grasp on the box. Since he was distracted, Adam let himself also look over to where a bear-like young man with blonde curly hair was kneeling on the floor, gathering embroidered throw pillows and flinching every time the old lady standing over him bopped his head with a pillow.
“You should never run in a store! Didn’t your mother ever teach you manners? You could have hurt someone, running your cart around like that!”
“Yes ma’am,” the young man, Matthew, said as he tried to gather the pillows faster and duck to avoid the blows.
“That’s your reinforcement?” Adam asked dryly.
The guy sighed, a deep soul-crushing sigh. “Little brothers, man.”
Adam didn’t know if he was to commiserate or offer sympathy, but he tried to pull the box away and the man only distractedly tugged back, finally yelling at Matthew, “For fuck’s sake, get your sorry ass over here.”
“I’m sorry, Ronan. I knocked them over,” he yelled back and took another swat from the woman’s pillow.
Adam used the distraction to really notice the man apparently named Ronan who was hugging the Instant Pot box across from him. He was tall, built nice and lean, had a shaved head growing in to black fuzz all over his head. His face was sharp and angular, features pretty perfect, and he would’ve been undoubtedly gorgeous, if he hadn’t been preventing Adam from getting his Instant Pot and getting the hell out of Target.
“I don’t think your war chariot is going to be ready for battle any time soon. Why don’t you just go find another Instant Pot and leave?”
Ronan’s attention swung back to Adam and he gulped. Having the full attention of those eyes and that sharp gaze would’ve been intimidating at any time but how the guy could manage that level of menace at 5 a.m. was pretty impressive. Adam had a fleeting wonder of how intense the guy would be under other, better circumstances.
Ronan was apparently giving Adam a similar once-over, probably determining all his weak spots and how best to incapacitate him.
“I told you, this one’s mine. I’m not leaving without it.”
“Well, I hate to break your heart, but I’m not leaving without this one.”
They stared at each other over the box and Adam’s world narrowed to ignore the other shoppers still pushing into them.
“Look, man, this is a Christmas present for my brother. It’s the only thing he wants. You don’t wanna ruin someone’s Christmas, do you?”
Adam was surprised that this Ronan could wheedle that well; he didn’t seem like the type. But although Adam could possibly understand wanting to please a loved one with a gift, he found he didn’t care about this guy’s family. Because fuck him, that’s why. He didn’t owe this jackass anything.
“Your brother really wants this for Christmas?” Adam’s disbelief was huge as he looked pointedly over at Matthew who was finally getting to his feet and still apologizing to the lady.
“Not that brother,” Ronan rolled his eyes. “Our older brother who’s impossible to buy for and finally actually asked for one thing this year because he’s trying to learn to cook.”
“Well, my apologies to him, but this is going to be a Christmas present for someone who already knows how to cook.”
“I’m sure your girlfriend can make you dinner with something else.”
Adam was so surprised at the vitriol in the word girlfriend that he blurted “I don’t have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend” before he realized it.
“Oh,” Ronan said as he processed that information and Adam cleared his throat in embarrassment. They were both looking in opposite directions when Matthew more carefully and slowly galloped up, pushing the full-size cart ahead of him.
“Sorry about that, Ronan. The cart got away from me and took out those shelves like whoa. I’m lucky it was only pillows.” Ronan grunted and Matthew turned a big friendly smile to Adam. “What’s going on here?”
“This asshole is trying to steal Declan’s Instant Pot.”
“And I told you, I had it first. You’re trying to steal my Instant Pot.”
“Oooo,” Matthew said delightedly, “are you going to duel for it?”
Ronan snorted. “No, I’m going to create a distraction and you’re going to reach in and grab it.”
“You know,” Adam said slowly, “if you’re trying to come up with a devious scheme, you should probably go make plans in secret. Over there. Where the guy you’re trying to con can’t hear you.”
“Yeah, but if I go over there, you’re going to steal my pot.”
Adam sighed, “Drat. Foiled again,” and didn’t smile when Ronan’s face lit up in evil glee.
“Get ready, Matthew. When he’s distracted, take the box and run.”
“What are you going to do?” Adam asked warily, edging his body and feet back as much as he could without relinquishing an ounce of pressure on the box.
Ronan’s head turned from one side to the other and Adam said in growing delight, “You don’t even have an idea, do you?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Ronan snapped, locking back on Adam at once. “Of course I do. It’s a great idea. I’m going to, uh, kiss you.”
Adam’s eyebrows went up in shock all on their own. Ronan’s piercing eyes went from Adam’s eyes to his lips and he saw Ronan swallow hard.
“Go ahead then,” Adam called his bluff. “You think you can kiss well enough to make me forget that I’m holding my Instant Pot and let go to sweep you into my arms or something?”
“N-nooo,” Ronan’s voice stuttered and Adam was delighted to see his cheeks turn red. “More like I’ll kiss you as a threat so you freak the fuck out and run away in a panic and leave my pot here.”
“You think I’m not comfortable playing gay chicken. Well, there’s one thing to know about me. I only play to win,” Adam said, strangely confidant in the whole crazy idea.
“Yeah, right.” Ronan narrowed his eyes. “This is your last warning. I’m really gonna do it. You better give up now.”
“Go ahead,” Adam goaded, laughing in his face. “You’re not scaring me.”
Ronan leaned across the top of the box and smashed his mouth against Adam’s. Matthew hooted. Adam stood still, underwhelmed except by the quick pain of hard lips pressing into his teeth.
Then he felt Ronan pull at the box again but Adam just pulled his head back to taunt, “That was terrible. Is that the best you got?”
“You son of a—” Ronan cut off his own curse by leaning back in and kissing Adam again, in a slow and thorough kiss that made Adam’s toes curl up a little in his sneakers. When Ronan’s soft tongue touched his lips, Adam let him in eagerly and they explored each other’s mouths carefully and fully.
It was Matthew’s loud laugh from nearby that made Adam remember there was pain across his chest because he was tightly clutching a large box to it, and not the firm chest of Ronan who apparently did know how to kiss well enough to make him temporarily forget reality.
When Adam broke the kiss, it looked like Ronan was the one truly distracted, his lips red and open, his breath panting heavily. But his grip on the box remained as tight and white-knuckled as Adam’s as Ronan belatedly tugged at it.
“Told you I’d win,” Adam said, his voice not as exactly steady as he’d like. Ronan snorted and his eyes went back to Adam’s lips. So Adam had to ask, “Why do you taste like hot dogs and Red Bull?”
“Huh? Uh, it was easier to just stay up all night, so we tried out a bunch of convenience stores to see which one had the best food.”
“Good grief,” Adam said and continued to stare into Ronan’s eyes. “Who won that sorry competition?”
“None of ‘em. They all suck equally.”
They stood there, staring at each other, both holding onto the pot while Matthew started warbling along with the Christmas songs already playing on the store’s music channel.
“I’m going to share a secret with you,” Adam finally said as someone bumped his cart into his back for the umpteenth time.
“Okay,” Ronan’s voice was a husky rasp.
“Have you been shopping for one of these pots for long? Does your brother have his heart set on this very model?”
Ronan looked surprised for a moment then his face fell into disgust. “That’s your big secret?”
“No, I was just about to say that if he doesn’t absolutely have to have this model, and if you don’t mind spending 20 or 30 more dollars, there’s a whole aisle of these right behind me. All on sale, but not as cheap as this one.”
“Huh,” Ronan said and craned his head to look around Adam. “Imagine that.”
Adam tamped down his irritation. “So, why don’t you let go of this one and go pick out another one for your brother.”
“Why don’t you let go and go pick out another one for whoever,” Ronan retorted.
“Because I’ve had my eye on this one for months and I’ll be damned if I let some guy who doesn’t know shit just waltz in and steal the only Christmas gift I’m getting,” Adam snapped. And then he realized what he’d said.
Ronan was looking at him carefully but all he said was “I don’t waltz.”
“Just fuck off,” Adam sighed, the irritation fading and exhaustion catching up. “You look like you and your brother can come up with 30 bucks between you to buy him a more deluxe model.”
“It isn’t about the money. It’s the principle of the thing,” Ronan said and Adam was closer to violence than ever in his life. It just figured this asshole, hot as he was, didn’t have to worry about money.
Maybe Adam’s ire showed in his eyes, maybe the box crunching under his fingers gave it away, or maybe Ronan was finally getting tired of the standoff. He turned so Adam was glaring at his striking profile and called, “Matthew!”
“Yeah?” Matthew bumped Ronan’s ass with the cart, making him swear.
“Stop dicking around and go get one of those fuckers for Declan.” Ronan gestured toward the crowded aisle behind Adam.
“Which one?”
“Doesn’t matter. Just grab one.”
“Okey-dokey.”
Adam didn’t turn around at first, listening to Matthew wading through the throng of women while repeating “Excuse me, sorry, excuse me, I’m just gonna reach over you, oh sorry.” Adam did turn long enough to see Matthew not appearing to check any of the prices, just reaching out and grabbing one at random off a shelf.
Adam peeked as Matthew carried it past and sighed. It was the most expensive model Target carried, but neither he or Ronan gave it a second look. Ronan just nodded and Matthew plopped it into the cart. Adam’s headache and his blood pressure did not need any more interaction with someone as free or uncaring about money as these guys were.
“Now that you got your brother’s present, are you finally going to let go of this one?” Adam said and Ronan heaved out another sigh.
“I guess. With one condition.” Ronan leaned over the box and Adam stiffened, wondering if he was going to be kissed again and really not able to get upset about the idea. Ronan glanced away then back to Adam’s eyes. “Do you really know how to use this thing?”
“What? Yeah, of course! Why else would I want one?”
“Well, Declan thinks they’re the coolest thing for geeks in the kitchen like him. He’ll probably use it once then put it away and never think about it again.” Ronan shrugged.
“Oh my god, you rich assholes are all the same,” Adam said, not even trying to disguise the disgust in his voice.
“How do you know I’m a rich asshole?”
“You kinda are though,” Matthew piped up.
“Shut it,” Ronan demanded and Matthew cackled. “What I was trying to say is, since Declan will probably never feed me with it, I’d like a chance to actually see it in action. So, the price for this pot thing is you making me a meal in it.”
Adam just stared at him for a long moment, until Ronan shifted his weight and the red rose up his neck into his cheeks and even his ears.
Then Adam said, “You’re extorting me for the Instant Pot that I had possession of first, and the price you’re asking is for me to make dinner. For you.”
“For us!” Matthew piped up then shrank back when Ronan turned on him with a snarled curse. “What? I wanna try it too!”
It was all Adam could do not to laugh suddenly. Seeing Ronan cockblocked by his oblivious little brother was the funniest thing he’d seen in forever.
“Actually Matthew, I think maybe Ronan’d better try my cooking alone first,” Adam said and was gratified to see Ronan’s attention jerk back to him. “Never know how bad he’ll piss me off and then I’ll be obligated to poison him. Wouldn’t wanna accidentally poison you too.”
“Oooh, that’s a good idea. I’ll wait and see if Ronan survives,” Matthew said, and just like that, Ronan relaxed and let go of the box.
Adam stood in sole possession of his precious, watching the brothers watch him, very different expressions on their faces.
Ronan cleared his throat. “What’s your name?”
“Adam. Parrish.”
Ronan nodded for some reason. “So can I get your number? For when you attempt to poison me at dinner?”
Adam looked him up and down again, prolonging the moment on purpose, before meeting his eyes and saying, “Sure.”
Adam turned and put the box crookedly in his cart, the box too big to fit properly inside, and dug his phone out of his pocket as he turned back to Ronan.
“Oh, these do look fascinating. I can’t wait to try one,” a voice from right behind him made Adam jump.
Then Ronan yelled, “Hey what the fuck, that’s ours” just as Adam turned to his cart and yelled “Hey what are you doing?”
A guy about his age wearing wire-rimmed glasses was now holding the Instant Pot box and looking bemusedly at them. “I’ve read about these. They’re such an interesting integration of kitchen appliances into one contrivance claiming it’s a miracle. Whoever thought of that.”
“Get your own,” Adam said, reaching out for the box but the guy took a step back.
“I just found this one.”
“Yeah, motherfucker, you found it in his cart,” Ronan took a step to stand beside Adam.
“Oh was it? I thought this was a cart of merchandise to be stocked. Well, I’ll just take this one and you can choose another.”
“I am not going through this shit again,” Adam grit his teeth. “That one is mine. It was in my damn cart. You are stealing it. Now go down that aisle and pick out your own.”
“But this says it’s a Target exclusive, so it must have some special features that make it exceptional for the many tasks. I want to try this one.”
“So you’re just choosing this one on a whim?” Adam was so, so tired of rich assholes.
“This over-thinking nerd researched this fucker for ages. And it was in his cart. You need to give it back to him,” Ronan said.
“But, you two were fighting over it! I heard you!”
“Yeah, and we came to an agreement and now it’s his. So hands off, dick.”
“It’s Gansey, actually. I don’t go by my first name.”
Adam lay a hand on the box. “Look, I don’t care if you go by one name or three. I just want my Instant Pot back.”
“I’m interested in how effective one machine can actually be in doing the tasks of nine, so I believe that I will try it myself.”
“If you’re just looking for something to entertain you, here,” Ronan reached over and held out a box to him. At first Adam thought it was a heavy-duty hand mixer but then he blushed when he read the printing on the box.
Gansey looked supremely disappointed. “I don’t need a personal massager.”
“You look like you need something for stress relief.” Ronan mimed an obscene gesture and Adam couldn’t help but snort a laugh.
“You definitely don’t look like you need to be out shopping for Black Friday sales,” Adam said bluntly. “Your watch alone costs more than my kitchen appliances and my car. You can buy your own damn pot any day for full price.”
“But I’m here now and I like this one,” Gansey said stubbornly.
“You obviously have enough money. Leave my pot alone and go find another toy.”
“I just stopped in because I couldn’t sleep and I was so surprised Target was open that I thought I could stock up on some journaling supplies. I didn’t realize what all the fuss was about,” Gansey said in a rush. “This is such a blatant display of the violence of capitalism in America. Now I feel like I’m being bullied and ganged up upon.”
Adam felt badly for almost one second until he realized Gansey hadn’t put the box down. Ronan gave him a very sarcastic slow clap.
Gansey sniffed. “Fine, if your heart is so set on this particular pot, you may have it. I’ll just find one online.”
Gansey set down the box on the floor between them before Adam could say anything. He hadn’t even straightened fully when a cheerful voice said “Thank you very much!” from between them as the box was whisked away.
Ronan’s “What the fuck” mixed with Adam’s “Hey no” and Gansey’s “Excuse me, that’s either mine or his.”
“You dicks are just standing around, causing a road block in this aisle and arguing about who’s richer or more deserving or something. The law of Black Friday is finders, keepers.” The voice came from behind the box but the speaker wasn’t a whole lot taller than it. Adam’s first thought was “Oh, she’s really pretty” followed quickly by “she’s a damn thief.”
“While that’s certainly one interpretation. Maybe we should talk about who needs it the most,” Gansey said.
“You lose immediately because you didn’t even know what it was until you saw this one,” Adam said. “I’ve been waiting for this stupid ass thing to go on sale for months!”
“Well, it’s for my mom for the holiday, so my need wins,” the girl said.
“Ha, no way,” Ronan said. “You can’t buy your mom an appliance for a Christmas gift. What kind of loser daughter are you?”
“Why not?” the girl looked ready to square up against Ronan, despite the fact that he towered over her. “It’s specifically what Mom asked for.”
“It’s like giving your dad a tie for Father’s Day. You guys know the rules, right? You have to give them something personal. Parents just don’t like that utilitarian shit for holidays, right?”
Ronan looked around at the other three as Matthew nodded earnestly. Adam had just about gotten over flinching when someone mentioned parents so he kept his mouth shut. Gansey only looked vaguely confused.
“Then what’s your great humanitarian need to have this pot on sale?” the girl challenged Ronan.
“My brother,” he answered promptly. “He said he wants one and I’ll be damned if I spend anymore on him than I have to, therefore, this one.”
“I just want it for myself,” Adam said. “I love my slow cooker, but this offers a lot more range.”
The girl nodded thoughtfully. “What about you, polo shirt? And are those...oh my goddess they are. Boat shoes? Really?”
Gansey pulled himself up to his full height and started telling the girl all about his theories of how an Instant Pot could revolutionize his cooking since his kitchen was still in the bathroom until the renovations of his loft could be completed.
Adam was eyeballing the girl, looking for any weakness, any sign that she was going to give up the box, but she looked at him out of the corner of her eye and bared her teeth.
Then Matthew whispered loudly and urgently, “Guys. Look.”
Ronan and Adam followed his pointing figure across the big, main aisle to where an older woman and a middle-aged one, looking like mother and daughter, had their carts parked down the smaller aisle of towels across from the battleground. The women each had an Instant Pot box, talking and comparing them. Then the mother put down her box right there on a shelf with bath towels and walked away.
Ronan was in motion before Adam could even register what was going on. He was pretty sure Ronan cleared an oncoming cart from a standing leap and used his momentum to propel himself around another cart moving from the opposite direction. He had just clamped his hands on the box when a blonde, pony-tailed woman said loudly, “Excuse me, I saw that first.”
“But I got it first,” he retorted. “Suck it.”
“Do you know who I am?” she shrieked and Adam nudged Matthew to follow him across the aisle.
“Nope, don’t know, don’t fucking care,” Ronan said happily as he backed away from her.
The woman’s voice continued to rise but Matthew and Adam crowded up behind Ronan as if he needed support. “That’s my pot!” she said, gesturing to Ronan. “I saw those women put it back, and I want it! I’ll tell my husband about this!”
“Well, too bad, it’s his,” Ronan said before putting it gently into Adam’s cart.
Adam looked from it, up into those icy blue eyes that he could tell now were thawing, and said quietly and sincerely, “Thank you.”
The woman carried on threatening them all but they ignored her, going back across to where the girl with the box was still going off on a rather shell-shocked Gansey.
“And what would you do with it, anyway? Try it once and then what? If you don’t like it, will you resell it? Donate it? Give it away?”
“I don’t know! I haven’t even gotten to try it yet! I haven’t planned that far ahead!” Gansey said hurriedly.
“Well, let me tell you about sustainability—”
“I hate to interrupt,” Adam lied, “but it sounds like she really knows what she’s talking about. Maybe you could just try hers out, you know. Together. With her.” He felt Ronan nudge his elbow into Adam’s side and just knew he was smirking.
“Well, it’s going to be her mother’s, not hers, but I wouldn’t be averse to dinner. I mean...”
The girl had a funny look on her face as she considered first Adam for the comment then Gansey for his reaction. His face began to turn pink.
“Well,” she said slowly, “maybe you could come over for dinner after Christmas when Mom tries it. Then you’ll see if you really want one.”
“That would be lovely!” Gansey said and held out his phone, but the girl shook her head.
“I’ll take your number and call you.” And she did, then she walked away with the Instant Pot.
“Nice move,” Ronan said, voice heavy with sarcasm. “Wonder where you came up with that idea.”
“It wasn’t my idea,” Gansey argued, his face still bright pink.
“You’re welcome,” Adam said. “You may not get an Instant Pot but you do get dinner with a really pretty girl.”
“Do you think she’ll actually call?” Gansey asked.
“I think she’ll do the right thing,” Adam said diplomatically.
“Ronan,” Matthew rammed the cart into Ronan’s ass again. “I want my donuts.”
“Hit me with that cart one more time and I’ll shove it up your ass.”
Adam noticed that Matthew was supremely unimpressed by the threat, leading him to believe that either Ronan didn’t actually follow through on them or that repeated exposure to hearing them over a lifetime just weakened their scare factor.
“Donuts actually sound really good,” Adam said, suddenly feeling starving and exhausted, probably from his adrenaline beginning to crash.
“You wanna get Dunkin with us? Ronan promised me we’d stop there if I came shopping with him.”
Adam looked from earnest Matthew to Ronan who was feigning disinterest and said, “Sure. I could buy you coffee. To thank you, for getting me this Instant Pot.”
Ronan dropped the act and looked pleasantly surprised. “You don’t have to buy me anything, but okay, yeah, sure. Come with.”
Adam laughed a little. “I’m actually parked right outside Dunkin anyway. That parking lot is insane.”
“It is,” Ronan agreed and they stared at each other until a little clearing-throat noise drew their attention away.
Adam had forgotten that Gansey was still standing there, looking tired and alone. “Do you want to come along? For coffee and donuts?”
“Yes, that sounds wonderful!” Gansey perked right up so Adam nodded at him.
“Now, I’m going to check out before someone else steals this damn Instant Pot.”
Matthew laughed and Ronan breathed out a chuckle.
Adam led the way, pushing his cart through the hellscape of angry shoppers and disorganized, disheveled displays left behind in their wake. Ronan walked alongside him, one hand clamped on the side of the cart handle, like he was a child who didn’t want to get separated from his mother in the store. Adam found it unreasonably cute, even if it meant they were too wide to fit through the crowded aisles, but Ronan was intimidating enough to clear his own path.
While they stood waiting in the very, very long line at a checkout, Adam elbowed Ronan to get his attention. “Why did you pick that box when there were all those other ones down the aisle? Did you really not see them?”
Ronan didn’t meet his eyes for a second but then he took a deep breath and looked straight at Adam. “Yeah, I saw,” he admitted. “But that was the only box with a really hot guy attached to it.”
“You’re full of shit,” Adam said with a laugh.
“It’s true! I thought I’d get to talk to you, but it...kinda spiraled out of control.” Ronan kicked at the cart tire, for all the world like a shy little kid, Adam thought.
Adam inched his hand over to where Ronan’s still clutched the end of the cart handle. He carefully slid his fingers over Ronan’s who froze. Then Ronan entwined their fingers on the handle without looking at Adam.
“Thanks for getting me this pot,” Adam said quietly again.
“Is it really all you’re getting for Christmas?” Ronan asked just as quietly then leaned into him as Adam shrugged.
“I don’t need anything,” Adam explained. “This is just a gift for me from myself.” Then a thought hit him. “But I guess I owe you something now.”
“A cup of coffee more than covers it,” Ronan said quickly but Adam hip-checked him as the line moved a step ahead.
“Is that really all you want for Christmas? A measly cup of coffee?” Adam teased.
Ronan looked sideways at him then tucked his chin to look down at their hands and mutter, “I think this song says it all.”
Adam gazed up at the store ceiling as he realized that even he recognized the pop song that was cheerily insisting “All I Want for Christmas Is You.”
He nudged Ronan hard enough to make him rock on his feet. “You’re a sap.”
“I don’t lie,” he said defensively but then a little smile twitched his lips when he saw the look Adam was giving him.
“I’m planning on trying this Instant Pot tomorrow night. Dinner around six?”
“Give me your address and I’ll be there,” Ronan promised.
Then he stumbled forward when Matthew rammed the cart into him and sang loudly and almost in key the last two high notes of the song “IS YOUUUU.”
“I’ll kill you!” Ronan yelled, barely audible over the ruckus of a number of sleep-deprived shoppers all hitting the last memorable words of the song with varying degrees of musical talent. A pack of huskies attempting to howl for the first time would've been more in tune.
Adam leaned over the cart and laughed until he couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t what he’d expected, but he was very glad he’d braved the insanity of Black Friday shopping. It was his first and hopefully last time because he had the feeling that he now had everything he needed to make life good.