I shouldn't have been staring.
I knew that.
But something about him—this man with his cold presence and mismatched purchases—had me frozen in place.
Then, it happened.
A small pack of hair clips slipped from his grip, tumbling to the floor. It skidded across the smooth tile, stopping just in front of my foot.
I sucked in a breath.
Instinct told me to pick it up, to be polite, to do what any normal person would do.
But my body resisted.
That feeling—the weight of his presence—made the air thick, pressing against my chest. It wasn't fear, not exactly. It was more like… caution.
Like approaching an animal you weren't sure was tamed.
Still, I bent down, fingers reaching for the pack of clips—
But before I could touch it, a shadow moved.
Someone I hadn't even noticed stepped forward, dressed entirely in black.
His movements were smooth, practiced, like someone who had done this a thousand times before. He scooped up the pack effortlessly and turned to hand it back to the man.
The body language between them was subtle but clear. Deferential. Protective.
A bodyguard.
I recognized the dynamic instantly.
Because I had lived it.
My breath hitched, and suddenly, I wasn't in the grocery store anymore. I was back home, watching my father's men hover around him, always on edge, always prepared.
A silent shield between him and the rest of the world.
I clenched my hands, shoving them into my pockets.
I had walked away from that life. I wasn't going back.
The man—their man—took the clips from his bodyguard without so much as a glance, slipping them into his bag like it never happened.
But just before he turned away, his eyes flickered to mine.
A brief moment. A heartbeat.
I should've looked away.
But I didn't.
And neither did he.
I didn't know who he was, but something told me…
This wasn't the last time we'd cross paths.