“I heard you the first time!”I shot back, grabbing bowls and scooping ice cream like my life depended on it.
It kind of felt like it did.
The bell on the counter kept dinging, orders stacking up faster than we could clear them.People crowded the small space with families, couples, a few bikers who had wandered in and were currently arguing over whether boozy milkshakes counted as dessert or dinner.
“They count as both,” I muttered, sliding a milkshake across the counter.
“Damn right they do,” one of the guys said, grabbing it with a grin.
Lark leaned close to me as she passed.
“If we survive this rush, I’m eating an entire tub of cookie dough,” she whispered.
“You say that every time,” I said, handing off another sundae.
“And every time, I mean it.”
I laughed despite the chaos.
Because this—this was normal.
Busy, exhausting, overwhelming… but normal.
And after everything that had happened, normal felt pretty damn good.
By the time nine o’clock rolled around, the rush finally started to die.
One by one, customers filtered out, most of them taking their food to go.The noise faded, the line disappeared, and suddenly it was just me, Lark, and the aftermath.
Sticky counters.
Used napkins.
A sink full of dishes.
Lark slumped against the counter.
“I’m dead,” she declared.
“Same,” I said, wiping my hands on a towel and leaning beside her.
The shop was quiet.
I exhaled slowly, letting my shoulders drop.And then the bell above the door dinged.
My head snapped up and there he was.
Jude.
My heart flipped so hard it felt like it might actually stop for a second.
It was ridiculous.
I knew it was ridiculous.
But it didn’t matter.
That feeling?
