His grin is slow. Lethal. “Bullshit.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “I had headphones on.”
“Sure you did.”
I cross my arms. “I don’t eavesdrop.”
“Town’s small,” he says. “Walls are thin.”
“I was working.”
“Mm-hmm.” He leans in a fraction, lowering his voice. “And enjoying my humiliation.”
I can’t help it. I smile. “You need someone to knock you down a few notches.”
“Careful,” he says softly. “I might like it.”
My pulse stutters.
Behind him, the bar empties as Saxon, Ash, and Axel finish their beers and head for the door, all of them smirking like they’ve just watched something they plan to rewatch later.
Ash calls over his shoulder, “Night, Boone. Don’t scare her off.”
“Or do,” Axel adds. “She seems feisty.”
The door shuts. The room quiets.
Boone looks back at me. “You heading out?”
“Yes.”
“Same direction.”
“I’m stopping at the market.”
He arches a brow. “For what?”
“Milk.”
“It’s eleven at night.”
“I eat Cheerios every morning.”
He laughs, real and unguarded. It does something dangerous to me.
“Cheerios?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Breakfast of champions.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re blushing.”
I am. I hate that he knows it.
“I can walk myself,” I say, stepping around him.
