Maeve

“Can I have a bite of that?” I asked, motioning toward the turkey leg wrapped in greasy brown paper that Troy was holding up to his mouth as he prepared to take a bite. He arched his brow, then sighed, handing me the leg and shaking his head at me as I took the largest bite possible.

“I could have bought you your own—”

“I didn’t want one until you had one,” I grinned, enjoying my bite.

Troy wrapped his arm around my shoulders as ...