She wrinkles her nose at me. Adorably.
“How about ‘Black Sesame Miso’?” she asks. Her eyes are gleaming again—but this time it’s with amusement, not unshed tears. It suits her.
“Are you fucking with me, Janella Yuri?” I arch a brow, daring her.
The corners of her full lips twitch. “Uh-huh.”
Before I can reply, I catch the teenager behind the counter mooning over her. He may as well have hearts in his eyes.
“Would you just pick something before that nerd drools all over your tits in that dress?” I order, smacking her hip in playful admonition.
Her face turns a predictable, albeit pretty, pink. “Crass,” she admonishes back. But she does turn back to the counter.
“Could I please try the—” She peers down, squinting at the labels. “—the ‘bourbon pecan’? Please?”
The fumbling fucker hands her a sample. Her eyes roll back in ecstasy.
“Good God,” she moans. “Yep. This one! I’ll take this one.”
One and done. Gotta like that.
“Cone or cup?” the nerd asks hoarsely.
I get it.
“Cone.”
“What about—” Janella starts to ask.
“I’ll have the same. In a cup.”
We get the ice cream and head back into the night. Janella is already back to making sounds that should be fucking illegal.
I dig into my own cup.
“Thatisgood,” I admit, guiding her down the street.
It’s safe to say she’s too lost in her ice cream for me to worry about her making a run for it. No matter the laundry list of reasons she’s got to do it.
Unfortunately, she’s not too lost in it to not catch me watching her.
“What?” she asks, self-consciously licking her lips.
“I was thinking about what you said before,” I tell her truthfully. “That you know, I think you’re weak.”
“You’ve implied as much.”
I frown her way. That grates at me, mostly because of how blasé she is about it, as if insults are commonplace to her. “Didn’t we already discuss your propensity for seeing the world in black and white? It lacks perspective.”
“That’s condescending,” she says.
“But not untrue,” I point out. “You spent an evening with my family. And you’re right, they’re fucking great. But if you took off the rose-colored glasses for a second, it isn’t perfect. We fight. We all fuck up and get pissed at each other. You saw my siblings. See any parents anywhere?”
She’s quiet. But I see her shaking her head.
“We’re solid. A part of that is because we’ve had to be. You asked me if I’ve ever killed someone. I have. But people try to kill me all the time, too. And everyone I love. That’s part of this life. And I’ve acclimated, too. Sure. This is what I’ve always known. But that doesn’t mean it’s ever going to be fucking easy. It never is. Any time one of us gets hurt, which is often.”
Janella stops walking. I halt, too, turning to face her. Her eyes look like liquid gold beneath the city lights.
