Page 119 of Explosive Prejudice

What the fuck?

I was ready to go over to them and ask what their problem was when Shay-Lee grabbed my arm.

“Just ignore them.”

“Ignore them? Who the fuck are they?” My eyebrows shot to my hairline.

Already back inside the fitting room, Shay-Lee spoke. “From their age and excitement, I guess they know me from my socials, so just ignore them.”

“They what now?”

Opening the door and stepping out, Shay-Lee added the vest to the pile of clothes I was already carrying for him.

“Social media. You know I got like three million followers just on Insta, right?”

“Yeah, and it’s still a wonder to me. What you post there is full-on crap.”

He laughed. “Says the guy who posts pictures of his plants.”

“One picture,” I corrected him while following him to the cashier. “And it wasn’t a plant but a cactus.”

It was still beyond me how Shay-Lee managed to track down my Insta account, which Jessie opened for me two years ago, and I had only posted once.

“Why are you defending it? I think it’s adorable.” He beamed over his shoulder, and it made my heart skip a fucking beat. Goddamn him.

We continued arguing until we reached the register, and the guy working there began scanning the many items Shay-Lee chose, one by one. Stunned by the price of each item, I turned and looked around the store. What the fuck made a shirt worth five hundred dollars? I’d have to teach Shay-Lee that dressing nice didn’t necessarily mean expensive. I bet it would be hard, given that his watch alone cost more than Kai’s motorcycle.

“What do you mean my card doesn’t work?” Shay-Lee’s sudden reaction made me turn quickly. “Check again,” he demanded, his brows pinched close and his eyes focused on the poor guy.

“I’m sorry, sir, but it keeps saying the card is declined.”

“Declined my ass,” Shay-Lee snapped, smacking his hand on the counter.

“Hey, now.” I reached for Shay-Lee’s arm and pulled him back. “No reason to get angry.”

“No reason to get angry? This idiot decided that my card has been declined. My cards are never declined.”

“P-perhaps you reached your limit?”

Shay-Lee’s face turned red. “Reached my limit?” His eyes went so wide it looked like they’d pop out of his head. “I don’t have limits. Do you know who the fuck I am?”

Shit.

Sometimes I forgot what an entitled asshole he was.

Shrugging me off him, Shay-Lee pointed his finger at the guy’s face. “Now you listen to me, you minimum-wage—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” I said, cutting him off before he could finish spitting out more offensive crap, and pulled him two steps back.

“What are you doing?” Shay-Lee asked while struggling against me to go back over there.

A crowd was forming, so I kept my voice low. “Maybe you should check your bank account before unleashing your wrath on a clueless worker who’s just doing his job?”

He frowned. “Check my bank account? Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Jesus, Shay-Lee, I don’t know. Maybe ’cause it’s your dad’s money?” His eyes widened with fear. I felt guilty for being so direct, but how could he not figure it out himself?

Panicked, Shay-Lee pulled out his phone, quickly unlocked it, and entered his banking app.

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