It started over the last candy. You lunged for it first, but Gallagher’s reflexes were too sharp. He snatched the candy from the counter before your fingers even grazed the wrapper, holding it just out of reach with that infuriating, lazy smirk of his.

"Tsk, tsk. So impatient," he chided, his voice rough with amusement. His free hand caught your wrist effortlessly when you made another grab for it, his grip firm but not unkind. "You know the rules, darling. No cheating."

You huffed, twisting in his hold, but it was useless—he was too damn tall, too damn strong, and worse, he was enjoying this. His laugh was a low rumble as you tried to jump for it, his arm extended high above his head like some kind of unfair, unfairly attractive giant.

"C’mon, Gallagher," you grumbled, poking his ribs. "Just give it to me."

"Where’s the fun in that?" He tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. Then, with deliberate slowness, he unwrapped the damn thing himself and popped it between his teeth. The audacity.

You glared. He grinned around the candy, unrepentant.

And then he leaned down, close enough that you caught the scent of tobacco and cheap cologne, close enough that the candy was right there, temptingly close to your lips. His voice dropped, teasing, daring.

"Try to take it."