“Not to mention, wandering a grocery store isn’t big with me. You’re in one, you act like you’re in a mall. So I’m seein’ if I gotta go to the store, I go alone. You gotta go, you go alone, but while you’re out, I contact my brothers just in case we gotta convene a search party. The way you are in a grocery store, you ever gotta go to the mall, you go without me. Deal?”

How did we get to talking about how we shopped?

I didn’t think it was a good idea to request that information.

I just said, “Deal.” Then I asked, “So he scowled at that old lady because he saw you and you with me?”

“He did what?”

“He gave a dirty look to an old lady,” I told him, then added, “It was very rude.”

“Who knows why he does the shit he does?” Joker asked. “But yeah, probably. I kicked his ass and left him out cold on his living room floor last time I saw him. Years later I’m with a cute, sweet, honey-haired, ex-cheerleader, once homecoming queen piece of ass. And before you say it,” he said when I opened my mouth, “all that is written all over you. He’s an asshole and an asshole to women, but he wouldn’t miss any a’ that.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

“My ma was fuckin’ gorgeous, but even in his glory days, he couldn’t nail a piece like you, and I’m leanin’ on a cart while you toss in enough beans to feed chili to my entire Club.”

“You never know when the chili craving will come over you,” I said quietly. “Most of those were for the pantry, just in case.”

He stared at me.

Then he muttered (like it was a bad thing), “Jesus, you do it for me.”

“I do…” I paused uncertainly, “what for you?”

“Everything.”

I started breathing funny.

“You keyed him?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Vehicle and face?”

“The last was a mistake, kind of gross, and I don’t feel proud—”

“Butterfly, I need you to get this,” he interrupted me firmly. “I’ve been in love with you since high school. I’ll be in love with you when you walk down the aisle to me, push out our first kid, our second, our third, cry when they go off to college, nag at them to give you grandbabies, and sit next to me on our couch in our pad in assisted living. I got that. I got my family. I got my brothers. I’m healed. You do not have to go off keyin’ my dad’s car. I’m good. Stop tryin’ to make me that way. You already got me there.”

I loved all he said.

All of it.

But I was focused on one thing.

“You’ve been in love with me since high school?” I breathed.