She narrows her eyes, playful. “You’re scared.”
I lift a brow. “Of what? Nuts?”
“No. Of admitting I got your flavour right.”
I huff out a laugh and take another lick. It’s cold and creamy, rich with that subtle nuttiness that sneaks up on you.
She watches me like it’s some kind of test. Her grin is smug. “Told you. You’re totally a pistachio guy.”
“Better than strawberry. All sugar, no bite.” But I’m already addicted to the way she licks the cone.
She squints at me like she’s trying to figure out if I’m teasing or insulting her. “You’re just jealous I taste better.”
I blink, my mind picturing way too many things it shouldn’t.
Her mouth forms an O, gelato covering her lips, and I want to know ifshetastes just as sweet. “I meant—my gelato tastes better. Obviously.”
I grin. “A rose by any other name would taste as sweet.”
She laughs, full and bright, nudging her shoulder into mine. “It’s smell as sweet.”
“I know what it is.”
“You studied Shakespeare?” She licks her cone again, slower this time—maybe intentionally, maybe not. Either way, I feel it low and dangerous in my gut.
“I’ve read a little.” I gaze into her eyes and remember the famous lines from the book.
“Tell me something else. Something real,” she says after a pause. “Not gelato or Shakespeare related.”
I glance down at my cone, then at her. “Okay. Real? You should be more careful out here.”
She blinks, surprised by the shift in tone. “Why?”
“Because you trust too easily.” I keep my gaze on hers. “And not everyone’s here to return your bag.”
Her smile fades just slightly. She shifts under my stare.
“But you are,” she says, fiddling with the handle wrapped around her elbow.
I look up at the sky, licking the edge of my gelato before it drips. “Yeah. I am.”
For now.
A plane flies above us in the cloudless sky and I watch as it leaves a trail behind.
Rose kicks her legs against the wall, her cotton dress rippling in the light breeze. “I’ve always wanted to fly.”
Back in the present, I open my eyes to the clouds floating below. The plane levels out and so does my breathing. I relax my hands against the armrest and search the aisle for Rose.
My shoulders drop when I see her busying herself, serving passengers at the front of the plane. She’s more sure of herself than she was back then, more assertive and hardened by this cruel world. She was always soft petals wrapped in poison. Beautiful. Untouchable. Dangerous.
And I was stupid enough to think I could touch her and not bleed.
She was an easy target back then. It didn’t take much to befriend her. I was a knight in shining armour, like in one of her romance novels. She fell for it too. We spent the rest of the day together.
It became a regular meeting spot. We’d walk through the park, boat on the lake, and tour the gallery. She was part of a mission, but I fell hard, prolonging our task of gathering the intel Dom and I needed to finish the job.
Revenge had plagued us both since we were kids. We were never gonna rest until we had our vengeance. But spending time with our enemy softened my hardened heart. She found her way through the cracks and she’s been there ever since.
