Kyle AI, Supermarket Incident

Disclaimer: AI assisted text ahead

Kyle adjusted his grip on the shopping basket, scanning the express checkout line. Only a few people ahead—he’d be out in no time. He exhaled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Then it happened. A man in a wrinkled polo and cargo shorts stepped ahead of him. No glance, no excuse me—just a blatant, dismissive move forward. Kyle blinked.

“Hey,” Kyle said, his tone flat but firm. “Line’s back there.”

The man barely turned his head. “I’m in a rush.”

Kyle stared at the back of his balding head. A rush? As if everyone else here had nowhere better to be. He considered pressing the issue, but the cashier had already started scanning the guy’s items. Fine. Not worth it. He exhaled sharply and waited.

It wasn’t until Kyle stepped up to the register that he noticed her. The woman standing a few aisles over, staring at him.

She was older than him, probably mid-thirties, dressed in a fitted blouse and pencil skirt that screamed ‘corporate job.’ Her dark hair was pinned back, sharp eyebrows furrowed. The moment their eyes met, she turned, pretending to focus on a shelf of gum and mints. But Kyle caught it—guilt.

He paid for his things and left.

Outside, the sun cast long shadows over the parking lot. Kyle popped the trunk of his car when he heard hurried footsteps behind him.

“Excuse me,” a woman’s voice called. He turned. It was her.

Up close, she was striking. High cheekbones, full lips, expensive perfume. She hesitated, glancing around before stepping closer.

“I saw what happened in there,” she said, voice quiet. “I wanted to apologize.”

Kyle frowned. “You weren’t the one who cut me off.”

“No,” she admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “That was my husband.”

Kyle leaned against his car, arms crossing. “And?”

She exhaled, glancing over her shoulder. “He does things like that all the time. He can be… inconsiderate. I just—I feel like I need to make up for it.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow. “Make up for it?”

She bit her lip. “Would you let me?”

Kyle hesitated. What did she mean by 'would he let her?' Why not just say sorry and be done with that?

She took a small step closer, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. "Can I kiss you? As an apology?"

Kyle blinked. Of all the things she could have suggested, that wasn’t what he had expected. He studied her face, the way her lips parted slightly, the almost imperceptible shift of her weight as she waited for his response.

His mind wandered for a moment. How did a guy like her husband end up with a woman like this? The man had the personality of a malfunctioning self-checkout machine, and yet he managed to get her—tall, blond, full red lips, and an irresistible smile.

Then, suddenly, he felt warmth against his lips.

His thoughts short-circuited.

Oh. She was already kissing him.

Her lips were soft, her perfume intoxicating, and for a second, Kyle just stood there, stunned. He hadn’t even answered yet. Wasn’t there supposed to be a pause? A dramatic moment before things escalated? Apparently not.

His hands hovered in the air for a brief moment before instinct took over, and he kissed her back.

It was his first kiss since high school. That realization sent a strange mix of excitement and panic through him. Had he forgotten how to do this? Was he doing it right? She didn’t seem to be pulling away, so that was a good sign.

Emboldened, he pressed forward, deepening the kiss, his tongue flicking against her lips in an attempt to take control. She let him in, but for every advance he made, she countered effortlessly, matching his intensity before pulling back just enough to keep him chasing. It was maddening, exhilarating.

Kyle realized, in a distant part of his mind, that she was toying with him. This wasn’t just an apology—it was a game, and she was winning.

Then, just as abruptly as she started, she pulled away. Kyle barely had time to register the loss of contact before he heard it—a voice cutting through the parking lot air.

“Emma? Where the hell are you?”

Her husband.

Her eyes widened slightly before she glanced over her shoulder. A frustrated sigh escaped her lips. “Damn it,” she muttered under her breath.

She reached into her purse, pulled out a sleek business card, and pressed it into Kyle’s hand. Her fingers lingered just a second longer than necessary.

“I owe you at least one more round of apologies,” she said, voice serious. “Call me.”

Then she was gone, walking away quickly, her heels clicking against the pavement. Kyle stared at the card, then at her retreating figure. He could hear her husband barking more questions, but she ignored him, slipping into the car.

Kyle exhaled, staring at the card in his hand.

Well. That was… something.