He sipped his Coke, then gave me a sideways glance. “So, how long did it take you to admit to your grandma you were meeting me?”
I groaned. “Ugh. I told her this morning and swore her to secrecy. She practically squealed.” I squinted at him over the rim of my cup. “Wait—how did you even know about my grandma?”
He grinned, feigning innocence. “Small town, remember? Word gets around.”
“Busted,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help smiling.
“I’m honored that you told her. Mine knows too, by the way. She suggested it.”
“Well, I’m supposed to be on my best behavior. She made me promise to wear lip gloss and not say anything too sarcastic.”
“Failing spectacularly on that second one.”
“I know,” I said, deadpan. “You bring out the worst in me.”
He laughed and leaned back on the bench. “I think you might bring out the best in me.”
That shut me up for half a second. He didn’t say it in a flirty way. He just said it. Quietly. Sincerely. Like it was a truth he hadn’t meant to let slip.
I looked away, unsure how to respond. My mouth went dry.
“Anyway,” he said, glancing at his phone, “I should get going. First-day pickup. Marshmallows are required.”
I nodded. “Right. Can’t compete with Pre-K and marshmallows.”
He smirked. “You might surprise me someday.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide the grin tugging at my lips. Together, we gathered the empty containers and napkins, stuffing them into the trash bag in companionable silence. It felt surprisingly easy, like we’d done this a hundred times before, even though it was only the first.
“I suspect,” he said with a teasing glance, “that underneath all that sass and sarcasm is a very soft core.”
I blinked at him, caught off guard, and let a small laugh slip out to cover my awkwardness. “You’re ridiculous.”
He grinned, stepping a fraction closer. “Maybe. But it’s true.”
I shook my head, smiling despite myself. “We’ll see about that.”
He brushed his hands down his jeans. “Well… I really should run. But this was fun.”
“Yeah,” I said, a little breathless, not wanting to admit how much I’d enjoyed it. “It was.”
He gave a small, easy nod. “See you soon?”
I managed a grin. “We’ll see.”
He didn’t leave right away. For a moment, he lingered there, close enough that I could see the way his gaze softened—like he wanted to say something more, or maybe do something more. The look he gave me made my breath catch; it was full of hope and possibility, and I found myself wishing he wouldn’t go just yet.
I tried to think of something clever to say. Something cool and breezy. What came out was: “Text me later. I mean, if you feel like it.”
He grinned. “Oh, I’ll definitely feel like it.”
Before he turned to leave, he hesitated again, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him. Then, so gentle it made my heart flutter, he bent and brushed a soft kiss against my forehead. My cheeks burned, my insides went all syrupy, and I couldn’t stop the tiny smile that crept onto my face.
I told myself it was the moment. Just the way he was—kind, handsome, and impossibly easy to be around. Nothing more.
Then he winked—an actual wink—and strolled off like he hadn’t just rearranged every rational thought in my head.
I watched him go, the path crunching under his boots, the breeze teasing the edge of his jacket. His warmth lingered at the table, a phantom of sun and spice and cherry pie milkshake. My fingers itched to check my phone, like maybe he’d already texted even though I know he didn’t. Like maybe this thing—whatever it was—was real and not just something my heart had invented out of loneliness and milkshake-induced euphoria.
