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recognise me.”
    “Yes, they will,” I say, brow furrowing. “You grew up here so everyone worships you. You’re the local treasure. They’ll definitely recognise you, Dean.”
    “We’ll be quick,” he says, nodding to the grocery store. “Let’s go.”
    I follow him inside, feeling amusement as I watch him grab a trolley and push it towards the first aisle.
    “When’s the last time you went food shopping?” I ask him, scanning the fruit selection.
    He clears his throat, then says, “I don’t know. Months, maybe.”
    I make a tsk tsk sound. “How does it feel to be amongst the common folk? Us plebs?”
    He throws me a look that clearly tells me to shut up, but all I do is flash him a grin, then start loading the trolley with various fruits and vegetables. A decent meal does sound good. Tara has dropped food off every day, trying to get me to eat, but all I did was consume the bare minimum. The looseness of my jeans tells me just how much I’ve been neglecting myself, and it’s time for me to get out of my slump and get my shit together. Dean is right, I can’t go on like this anymore. Other people lose someone they love every day, but they get through it.
    And I will too.
    We’re down the second aisle when I hear a woman say to her friend, “Oh my God, is that Dean Amore?”
    My head snaps to Dean, and I catch his wince. He keeps pushing through the aisle, at a faster speed this time.
    “Disguise fail,” I mutter under my breath.
    “Fuck,” he whispers, turning around and looking behind him as the women start to follow him.
    “Do you want to go to the car?” I ask him, quickly ducking behind a display of nappies. “I can finish up here alone.”
    “No,” he says, shaking his head. “I have to get the shit I need to cook dinner tonight.”
    My eyebrows hit my hairline. “You’re cooking dinner tonight? Will wonders never cease?”
    “Well at least the fire in you is back,” he says in a dry tone, glancing up at the nappies stacked in a huge pile. “Great, next they’ll be saying I knocked someone up.”
    I glance around. “There’s no paparazzi here, Dean. This isn’t the big city.”
    However if those women take a photo, it could be plastered all over social media, which is kind of the same thing. “Or maybe you’re right. What do you want me to do?”
    “You gonna save me?” he asks, his smile hitting his green eyes. “There’s nothing we can do, let’s just get what we need and bounce.”
    We rush around the store, grabbing everything we think we’ll need. We’re in the ice-cream aisle when the women catch up with us.
    “Oh my God, Dean, it is you!” one gushes, closing the space between them and touching his arm. “Can I take a photo with you? I love you and your music so much! Your picture is my phone wallpaper!”
    She slides up next to him, like they’ve known each other for years, completely invading his personal space.
    Oh wow.
    Is this what he has to go through every time he leaves the house? People acting like he’s community property? The other woman, a younger-looking brunette, steps to his other side. “Could I get your signature? My friends aren’t going to believe this….”
    Dean looks uncomfortable, and fairly so. I try to step in and save him.
    “Listen, ladies,” I say, stepping closer to Dean and slowly nudging them out of the way. “How about a quick photo, but you both need to stay quiet about him being here? His cousin just died and he’s trying to mourn in peace, without everyone knowing his whereabouts.”
    Yes, a shitty card to play, but it’s also the truth.
    “Who are you?” the older one asks, eyes narrowing.
    Great, she probably thinks I’m his new girlfriend and is going to try and fight me or start a hate page on social media or something.
    “I’m his lawyer,” I say, smiling evilly. “Any other questions?”
    She shakes her head.
    I take two photos, and then grab Dean by his bicep and pull him on out of there.
    “My