“Don’t do that.” I reach over, wrapping my hand around his wrist and pulling it away from his face.
He blinks at me. “Do what?”
“Bite into it like some animal. Isn’t it cold?”
His shoulders shake with mirth, his laughter bubbling out again.
The edge of my lip twitches upward, warmth pooling in my chest. I could get used to this.
A soft ding pulls my attention to the door. Two cops walk in—one on his phone, the other scanning the room. I don’t recognize either of them, but I’ve only met a handful on the force. The one looking around catches my eye, gives me a nod, and steps into line with his partner.
“Do you even like ice cream? I’m shocked you got a smoothie.” Ayden’s voice reels me back in to where I want all my attention anyway.
“Not the biggest fan.” Slowly, I drag my hand away from his wrist before I get any reckless ideas, like pulling him across the table and tasting the ice cream off his lips.
“Why’d you want to come here then? We could’ve just done a drive-through and gone back to the cabin.”
I lean forward on my elbows, resting my cheek in my palm while the other hand stirs my drink in lazy circles. “Couldn’t let our outfits go to waste. Even if it’s just a place like Dairy Queen.”
“Fair point. You look really good.” His voice drops, almost slips, like he didn’t mean to say it out loud. He covers it fast with another bite of his cone.
Goosebumps ripple over my arms.
“You’re the prince here, sunshine.”
Color floods his face—cheeks, nose, even the tips of his ears. It’s beautiful, that shade of red against his perfect features.
“What does that make you?” His voice has an edge to it now, like he’s daring me.
“Your knight.”
His eyes dip, his chin following, but not before I catch the press of his teeth against his bottom lip.
And fuck, if that action doesn’t cause tingles to go straight to my balls.
Something snags his attention. Ayden’s head jerks right, then back to me, then right again. The fear that flashes across his face isinstant and it yanks me straight into fight mode.
I whip my head left, hands gripping the table, ready to swing at… I don’t even know what.
Two cops. Just the same two guys in uniform stepping up toward the counter to order. Not even looking at us. My adrenaline, hot and sharp a second ago, slams into confusion like a deer caught in headlights.
What the hell?
When I snap back to Ayden, his face is pale. Something’s wrong.
“Hey, you al?—”
“We should go.” His voice is clipped. He drops his cone, half eaten, onto the tray and slides out of the booth.
Something twists in my gut. He doesn’t just want to leave. He needs to.
I fumble with the table edge, peeling myself out of the cramped booth. My size was never built for these damn things, and it takes me longer than I want to stand. My eyes flick back, one last look at the officers who are ordering their food, or ice cream.
Not a threat that I can tell.
Except Ayden thinks otherwise.
I rush after him, out the front door, the cold night air slapping my face.
