As soon as we arrived at the clothing store, Harper pulled me inside, and we started browsing through all the clothes hanging in the room.
I spotted many items that I would love to buy, but they were all too revealing. I knew I couldn’t wear them without everyone seeing my scars—at least not without my leather jacket on top.
However, there were a few nice sweaters, hoodies, and long-sleeved shirts that caught my eye. I also needed more jeans, but what I was really interested in were yoga pants because they are the most comfortable pants I have ever found.
As we were about to pay, Harper took my bank card from me, tucked it into her back pocket, and paid for everything.
“I’m not letting you pay for my clothes,” I insisted.
“Yes, you are. This is Landon’s credit card. The least he can d
