Page 128 of My Three Billionaire Rockstars

“I have several. You just focus on your favorite.”

That shouldn’t make my stomach flip. It does anyway.

I shove a hand into my jacket pocket. “You didn’t have to buy Nina half the market.”

“I bought her a pastry.”

“And the honey.”

“She looked at it like she wanted it.”

“That’s not a stable financial philosophy.”

“It’s not a financial problem.”

“It is if you keep doing it.”

He watches me. “Does it bother you because I spent money or because it felt easy?”

I hate that he can do that. Just cut straight through the middle of a thing while I’m still busy pretending it’s made of smaller pieces.

“I don’t know,” I admit.

“Okay,” he says.

I look toward the bookstore, where Nina is very clearly not hurrying. “She’s doing this on purpose.”

“Yes.”

“She thinks she’s subtle.”

“No one related to you is subtle.”

I snort before I can stop myself.

His mouth shifts again.

The square blurs a little around the edges then, in the way the rest of the world goes softer when someone’s standing too close and looking at you like that.

I clear my throat and look away. “This is still weird.”

“Yes.”

“You agreeing that easily is unnerving.”

“I’m not trying to make it less weird.”

I look back at him. “No?”

“No.” He takes a step closer, not enough to crowd me, just enough to shift the atmosphere between us. “I’m trying not to lie to you.”

My pulse does something humiliating, because there it is, that thing with him.

No games in the important moments. Or pretending he doesn’t mean what he says. No softening the edges just to make me more comfortable if comfort isn’t the truth of it.

I open my mouth but have no idea what to do with any of that. So naturally, my body picks sarcasm.

“Very bold of you,” I say, “considering lying is usually more socially efficient.”