Page 95 of Riding the Sugar High

“Err...guys? The live?” Kyle calls.

Primrose bolts back, eyes wide and lips swollen as she looks between me and the camera.

She’s so pretty.

I couldn’t drag my eyes away if I wanted to, and anyway, there’s nothing I need to tell the people watching. There’sonething I want to say, and only Primrose’s meant to hear it.

I step back into her space, pulling her waist against mine. “Two million people just saw me kissing you.” Leaning forward, I whisper in her ear, “How’s that for being ashamed?”

let me help him

Primrose

Walking as quicklyas I can past the fish table, I spot Logan talking to a middle-aged woman. The tips of his ears are bright pink as he shifts from foot to foot, pointing at the pears stacked before him. This morning, he woke me up and told me to get ready for the farmers’ market, which is excellent news—I’m sure people won’t mind paying more for their fruit and vegetables if it means looking at him.

How’s that for being ashamed?

My stomach clenches like it’s done a million times since he kissed me yesterday. We haven’t talked about it, because right after, he said he’d go on a ride and vanished for most of the day. Kyle says it’s normal, that he gets the zoomies when he’s overwhelmed.

But he let me into his bed when I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t fall asleep again. I might have asked for a cuddle. He might have said no, then done it anyway.

I’ve been waiting for him to bring it up, but he hasn’t so far, which would send me spiraling if it wasn’t Logan I was dealing with. He’s been going about life burying every single feeling for years, isolating himself and exacerbating his anxiety. Now that he’s allowing himself to feel something, he needs time to process it. I guess it’s to be expected.

Still, I’m dying to know how he feels about it.

Once I join his side, the woman says a quick goodbye before walking away.

“Sorry,” I say as I drop onto the stool and reach for my canteen of cold water. I appreciate the shade provided by the small roof, but it’s not enough to keep my upper lip from sweating. I swear spring doesn’t make sense in this part of the country.

“What for?”

“I think I just cost you that sale.”

He looks out at the crowd, but the woman has already been swallowed by it. “That wasn’t a customer.”

“Then who is she?”

“Beth McMallen. She wants her sixteen-year-old son to work at the farm. He’s been getting in trouble and could use an outlet.”

“What did you say?”

He nods. “As long as the farm’s mine, he can come over. It’s not a big deal. I’ll drag his sorry ass around and throw tomatoes at him if he annoys me.”

“You know, you should stop downplaying every nice thing you do. People won’t respect you any less if you acknowledge you’re a kind person.”

“Whatever you say,” he mumbles as his eyes run over me. “But you can’t leave my side again.”

“Why not?”

“Some teenager saw me with you and asked me to TikTok.”

“You can’t use it as a verb.”

He shrugs. “I won’t use it at all, because I said no. Like a kind person.”

When he smirks, I roll my eyes and adjust one of the precariously stacked eggplants. “This is a small town; and with this whole police business, I’m sure the news about our relationship spread like wildfire.” I shrug. “My fame will rub off you, so you’d better get used to the attention.”

He hums, throwing a sheepish glance at two women pointing at us. “I don’t like attention.”

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