Page 47 of Auctioned to the Devil

“Yes, but you nearly broke his wrist.”

“Should’ve.”

Her eyes widen.

I mean it. That’s the problem.

I look at her hand, still resting against my chest.

She’s close enough that I can feel her breathing.

Close enough to smell her shampoo.

Close enough that the anger in my blood starts turning into something else.

“You scared me,” she says quietly.

That lands harder than it should.

I step back.

Her hand falls.

“I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I know.”

She looks toward the door, then back at me.

“Does everyone react like this when somebody touches their fake girlfriend?”

“No.”

“What do normal fake boyfriends do?”

“Probably nothing.”

“And you?”

I look at her. “I’m not normal.”

Her lips part. “I’ve noticed.”

I should apologize but I don’t.

Instead I pick up the basket.

“Anything else?”

She stares at me in disbelief. “You’re asking if I need groceries?”

“Yeah.”

“You just assaulted a man between canned vegetables and strawberry jam.”

“He’ll live.”

A laugh escapes her before she can stop it. She covers her mouth. “Oh my God. You’re insane.”