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“Hey, give those back.”
“If you want something, all you have to do is ask.” My back’s to the candy display behind me, and several bags tumble to the floor when he stuffs his hand into my pocket to remove the other treats. “There’s no reason to steal when I can give you whatever you need.”
I swallow the rest of my bite before snatching my donuts back. “Um, listen. It’s cute that you’re being so honorable about some dollar mini-mart snacks, but I’m not stealing.”
“Stop laughing at me, dammit.”
“I can’t help it.” His scowl deepens, and I force myself to go easy on him. “Okay, I don’t know what it’s like in the city, but here, it’s no big deal to snack and shop. I just bring the wrapper to the front, they scan it, and I pay.”
He’s skeptical, but after a tense moment, he eventually nods.
I offer my palm. “May I have my Skittles now?”
More grumbles. “Yes.”
“Thank you.” After stuffing them back into my pocket, I remove a sugar-covered donut and hold it up to him. “Now, try this, and then you can sing my praises for the euphoria you’ve experienced.”
Rowan rolls his eyes in that bratty way of his, but my lips part once he leans forward and takes a bite from between my fingers.
“What do you think?” I ask, mesmerized as he chews, then swallows.
My skin heats uncomfortably, even more so when he devours the rest of the donut and folds his lips around my fingertips.
“I’d eat a thousand of these if you never stopped looking at me like that.”
“I…”
Holy shit.
I freeze as he clamps a hand around my wrist and sucks my entire pointer finger inside his mouth. His tongue—warm, wet, and smooth—swirls across my knuckle, and my nipples harden with a heady rush that streamlines toward my clit.
“You were right.” Still holding on to me, he murmurs, “This place is pretty fucking romantic.”
My chin rises as his dips, and every cell in my body shouts yes! because he’s finally going to kiss me. But before his lips fall to mine, we’re jostled into the metal racks behind me.
“Oops. So sorry about that.”
I’d know that annoyingly familiar voice anywhere.
Rowan’s breathing heavily as we turn to Wade and his friends. They’re drinking beers from the half empty six-pack he’s carrying, and the back of Rowan’s shirt is drenched.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask.
“Looky here, boys! It’s the happy couple.” Wade roughly claps Rowan’s shoulder and gestures between us, still holding his beer. “You know, there’s something fishy about the two of you.”
His pupils are dilated, and the alcohol on his breath makes my stomach roil.
Rowan brushes off his hand, and Wade stumbles back a step.
“You think you’re untouchable just because you’re a wannabe Radley, but I’ve heard the rumors.” He takes a swig of beer, swaying as he jams a finger at him. “That old man left a will, one that says you have to be married to inherit the estate. Which is funny, considering a week after the auction, you’re engaged to her.”
He spits at my feet, and for as angry as I am, it hurts to be hated so much.
“Our engagement is none of your business,” Rowan says, and I know by the edge in his voice that he’s barely restraining himself.
“It is when I don’t want you here. You out-of-towners are all the same. You come here with your big ideas, throwing your wealth around and trying to shake things up.” He closes the distance between Rowan and him. “But unlike this little nobody, we don’t like you.”
My voice is pathetically weak when I say, “Fuck you, Wade.”
