She brushes one of the hair wisps in front of her face aside. “After the day I’ve had, I need chocolate reinforcement.”
See? Why is she making cute jokes like that?
I smile as Riley pops the spoon into her mouth and when she pulls it back, there’s a little chocolate stain on the corner of her lips. I’m lifting my hand to brush it away when I realize that would be very un-brotherly.
I divert to the napkins on the counter and hand it over instead.
“Thanks.” Riley smiles at me.
Note to self: do not look directly at Riley’s smile.
I avert my eyes and focus on my surroundings. The ice cream shop is buzzing. Through the doors to the right, there’s an outdoor play area where parents can watch their children on the playground. I notice a familiar face under one of the large, beach-like umbrellas.
Is that Renthrow?
I turn quickly, hoping he doesn’t see me.
“I’ll have two scoops of the brownie,” Riley says to the attendant. “Nat, do you want the cheesecake or something else?”
“The cheesecake is fine,” I say in a rush.
The clerk takes her time digging out the ice cream. I silently beg her to speed it up, and barely stop myself from snatching the ice cream cones out of her hands when she passes them over the counter.
I pay at the register, leave a tip in the jar and swerve to the exit.
Sweet, sweet escape.
Unfortunately, when I push the door with my shoulder, I notice that I am holding the door open for me, myself, and I.
Swerving my neck, I glance behind me.
Riley isn’t there.
She’s standing in the middle of the ice cream parlor, a finger pointed at the outdoor play area. I look in that direction and see a woman with chin-length black hair waving Riley over. Riley grins and starts running to the woman.
My heart sinks to my toes.
Should I just wait for her in the car?
To my horror, Renthrow catches sight of me with my leg halfway out the door. I’ve been had, and it is now officially considered rude if I just leave.
Reluctantly, I join Riley at the table. The shriek of children having fun fills the air and it forces Riley and her friend to talk loudly to one another.
“I thought that was you!” Riley yells.
“I know! I was just telling Renthrow ‘hey, I think that’s my neighbor’. And then you turned around!”
In contrast to the women’s exuberance, Renthrow and I exchange a silent chin-up greeting. Thankfully, he’s not looking at me with the same pity and concern that he had during training.
That puts me at ease.
“Oh no. Your ice cream is melting,” the woman beside Renthrow says, pointing to me.
I look down and realize both ice cream cones are dripping on my hand.
“Let me take mine, Nat.” Riley rips her ice cream away and it feels like she’s yanking my safety blanket.
“Sit, sit.” The woman’s eyes sparkle at me. “You’re Nathan Campbell, right?”
