“She’s wearing them out of here. Thank you, though.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” I answer. “I don’t plan on taking them off. Thank you. They’re beautiful.”
“They’re perfect for you,” the vendor says.
Halsey takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. “She’s right, they’re perfect on you.”
I tug him to the side so we’re out of the flowing traffic and place my hands on his chest. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to get them for you.”
I’m not going to put up a fight because it would seem ungrateful, so instead, I soak in this sweet moment.
“Thank you for my bracelets, Halsey. I really do love them.”
“Of course,” he says as he cups my cheek. I watch as a large smile breaks across his lips as he stares down at me.
“What?” I ask.
He lightly shakes his head. “Still in disbelief that I get to hold you like this. I convinced myself this would never happen, that I could only admire you from afar.”
“Well, it’s real, Halsey.” I smooth my fingers over his chest. “This is so real.”
“Feels like a dream. Afraid I might wake up and it will all be over.”
I bring my hand to his side, and with my index finger and thumb, I pinch his side.
“Hey!” he shouts, moving away from me. “What the hell was that for?”
I chuckle. “See? Not a dream.” I hold up my pinching fingers. “Pinchy fingers and all.”
“You could have just stuck your tongue in my mouth. You didn’t have to pinch me.”
“No, this really seals the deal on what we have going on.” I kiss his jaw. “But if you want me to stick my tongue in your mouth, I’d be more than happy to later.”
He wraps his arms around my shoulders and brings me in close to his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of my head before saying, “If you stick your tongue in my mouth, I won’t be able to not stick my dick in your . . . main hole.”
I snort against his shirt and look up at him. “Please . . . for the love of God, confirm that was Posey and not you.”
“That was one hundred percent Posey,” he says. “A mistake I’ll never make again.”
“That man needs help.”
Halsey nods his head. “More than you know.” He takes my hand, and together, we continue through the market. “Word on the street is he’s crushing on someone.”
“Really?” I ask, looking up at him. “Tell me more.”
“Willyou be okay that there are no blueberries in this dessert?” I ask Halsey as he hands me a wooden fork—one for him, one for me.
“I think I’ll survive. This looks good, though. I’m excited to try it.”
“I never would have pegged you for a lemon-loving guy. Then again, I never would have thought you liked blueberry-flavored food so much, either.”
“And what would you expect me to like?”
I lean back, giving him a slow once-over, and then tap my fork to my lips. “Hmm . . . if I had to choose, I’d say you like the taste of paper, oats, and marmalade.”
