“Here, let me take the other bag for you,” he said.

My eyes moved from my hand to his as he quickly took possession of my packages. Then his fingers laced through mine tightly as he lead me out the door.

Focusing on our hands intertwined the way they were, I felt so incredibly good, but wait! What the hell? After the initial shock of what had just happened wore off, I yanked my hand away and halted.

Matthew turned to me and gave me a surprised look. “I’m just holding your hand. It isn’t an invitation to sleep with me.”

I looked at him with the most evil look I could give him. I couldn’t believe he’d said that. Now the pleasant warmth from his hand just became icy cold. Did he suddenly think we were going out? He didn’t even ask me and I wouldn’t go out with him if he did. He was an arrogant jerk who seriously needed a massive scolding. “I can hold my own bags and I didn’t give you permission to hold my hand. You must have tuned out when your mother taught about manners because your brother has them for sure,” I stammered.

“Geez…you’re feisty. Okay. I won’t hold your hand, but I’m holding your bags for you. And no, I’m not like Max. I’m spoiled and I get what I want.” He started walking away.

Why did he say that? Was he trying to tell me he wanted me? “Where are we going?” I followed behind him, since he was holding my bags hostage.

“It’s past noon. I’m hungry, and considering your grumpiness, you must be hungry, too.”

He was right. I was starving to the point that my stomach panged in hunger. Skipping breakfast this morning, I had forgotten to grab anything to eat. Knowing he wanted to eat lunch with me made my heart flutter, but at the same time, I didn’t like how I was feeling. Nothing good could come of me having a secret crush on Matthew Knight. In the end, I would be the one who got hurt. Not only that, he was Max’s brother. What if things went wrong? This was assuming he wanted to be more than just friends, but what the hell was he doing trying to hold my hand?

As I followed Matthew to the food court, I studied him from behind. His firm ass was perfect, and I couldn’t stop staring. Jeans never looked better. Looking like a runway model, he strode with his long legs. With his arms flung behind his back while holding my two bags, his biceps flexed and stood out, even through his black sweater.

When we turned the corner, my nostrils immediately took in the aroma of all the food the stores had to offer. My stomach rumbled so loudly that I was sure he had heard it when he turned to me; or was he making sure I was still following him, since I tried to stay as far back as possible.

“What would you like to eat?” he asked when I caught up to him.

I couldn’t decide; I was so famished that I didn’t care. Instead of answering, I headed to the first place I saw and grabbed a tray. I didn’t bother to ask him what he wanted or pay attention to where he headed. After I told the lady I wanted half and half—steamed rice and noodles, with beef and broccoli, orange chicken, and a bottle of water, I slid my tray to the cash register.

“I’ll have the same thing she ordered,” Matthew said to the lady.

He had apparently followed me here. Before I even had the chance to take out my wallet, he had already paid for the both of us. Blinking, I stared up at him with a glare. “You didn’t have to pay for me,” I said lightly, not wanting to sound rude, but uncomfortable that he had. I didn’t want to feel like I owed him a lunch in return.

“Of course I did. I made you mad, so I need to apologize to you with my presence,” he chuckled.

My cheeks pinched inward, as I tried hard not to laugh. He was cute and he knew it. “You mean you’re going to torture me with your presence. Is that how you apologize to people?”

“Maybe not torture, but punish instead.” He slid the shopping bag handles through his arms, placed my plate on his tray, and led us to an empty table.

After we settled down, we each opened our own container and watched the steam escape. From the corner of my eye, I watched him slide the cover off the chopsticks, split them perfectly in the middle, and dive into the noodles. He was not an amateur with the chopsticks as I was.

Next thing I knew, he was behind me. Pressing his chest on my back, his arms were around me, fingers touching fingers, showing me how to hold the chopsticks correctly. Heat infused and spread to the rest of my body. I couldn’t concentrate on his demonstration or his words. All I could do was feel his body against mine, and realized how much I liked that feeling. His warm breath brushed the side of my neck when he spoke and I imagined him being a vampire, sinking his teeth into me. Oh, for heaven’s sake…I had to stop thinking of the characters I was reading about.

“There. Isn’t that much easier?”

Too afraid to turn to answer his question, because if I did, his lips would touch my cheek or my lips, which wouldn’t be so bad but what was I thinking? I stiffened, nodded, and that was my reply.

“So you like to read?” he asked, sitting across from me now. “Don’t forget the middle finger in the center,” he reminded, pointing to the chopstick.

“Yes.” My answer was short, and I was feeling shy, which was unusual for me. I’m never like this around men. I’m usually the one that makes them lightheaded.

We continued to eat in silence for a while. Sometimes there were moments of stolen glances between us. It was as if we were two shy teenagers suffering through puppy love and we didn’t know what to say. After Matthew swallowed, he spoke. “Did you finish your Christmas shopping?”