He shoves the guy’s chair against the wall and turns to me. “Why the fuck are you shoplifting? I just took you to Fifth Avenue and gave you my credit card.”
“Can we not do this here?” I ask, cutting my eyes at the manager.
Royal’s nostrils flare, and I can tell he’s still pissed, but he presses his lips together and nods. He grabs my elbow and marches me out of the store like I’m… Well, a kid who just got caught shoplifting a ninety-nine-cent razor. He doesn’t let go until we’re at his car.
“Care to explain why I had to bail you out for stealing when not one week ago I bought you everything you could ask for?”
“Because I don’t need fucking Gucci,” I explode, throwing my hands up. “I need a toothbrush, Royal. I need a razor.”
“Why didn’t you just ask?”
“Because I don’t want to have to ask,” I say. “You’ve given me way too much already. I don’t want you to have to take care of me.”
“I don’t have to,” he says quietly. “I want to.”
“You don’t get it,” I say, my voice quiet now, too. “You’ve never had to ask for anything in your life. How would you feel if you had to ask me every time you wanted to buy a pack of gum? It’s humiliating.”
“Being caught shoplifting is better?”
I shake my head, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “A trip to New York is a dream. This is reality. I’m fucking poor, Royal. I don’t belong in your world. You can put me in a fancy car and drape me with diamonds, but I’m still trailer trash, like you always said.”
He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and I try to blink away the ache behind my eyes.
“Harper,” he says at last.
“What?” I snap. “Face it, Royal. This is my reality. I don’t have any money. I do shit like this because it’s better than begging on the corner or turning tricks at the truck stop.”
“What about the Slaughterpen?”
“It’s not until Friday,” I say, pulling my hands into my sleeves and looking up at the lamp post, away from him.
Royal reaches out, taking my chin gently between his fingers and pulling my face to his, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Harper Apple,” he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his perfect lips. “You don’t just belong in my world. Youaremy world. Understand? That’s your reality now.”
I shake my head, tears blurring my vision, and he leans in, pressing his lips firmly to mine. When he pulls back, he wipes a tear off my cheek with this thumb and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Come on,” he says. “I’m guessing you haven’t eaten, so why don’t we go get a burger and you can tell me why I had to bail you out of jail for the second time in as many years.”
I laugh with embarrassment and nod, wiping my cheeks and climbing into the passenger seat of his car. We don’t speak until we’re sitting outside Boehner Burgers at a picnic table with our food between us.
“I’m sorry,” I say, ashamed for my earlier outburst and for the stupid thing I did. “Thank you for this. And for bailing me out. I swear I’m not as much of a criminal as I look.”
He arches a brow. “You’re practically a serial killer.”
“Shut up,” I say, throwing a fry at him. “It’s embarrassing.”
“I’d think it would add to your badass reputation, Jailbird.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t have a badass reputation. I don’t even do anything illegal anymore. I quit fighting and gambling months ago, and I haven’t painted since the last time I was arrested.”
“So you thought you’d get back into a life of crime by stealing a razor? You could have at least gone for a five blade. You shouldn’t even take a single blade if they give it to you for free, let alone risk yourself for it.”
“I was going to buy it,” I protest. “But I ran out of money. If you think about it, it’s really your fault. I was only buying a razor because you like me shaved.”
He shakes his head, looking at me like I’m insane. “I like eating you out,” he says. “I don’t give a single fuck what you do with your hair. I’d fight my way through the Amazon jungle to eat your pussy.”
“It would’ve been nice if you told me that before I shoplifted.”
“Harper,” he says, his face turning serious as he lays a hand on mine. “If you need a new razor, or money, or anything, you know you can just tell me.”
I shake my head, pushing my fries away. “Like you tell me when you need something. Besides, you’re not my boyfriend. We agreed we were just fucking.”