“I’m sure it’s not easy having a garage open up across the street,” I offer, pivoting to business and trying again to do this right. “That’s why I came to introduce myself.”
“Since you mention it...” Another motorcycle rumbles by, even louder than the chopper, and he has to raise his voice. “Any chance you’re planning to turn the volume down?”
“Unfortunately, no. This is what a garage sounds like.” No use in pretending otherwise.
Finn hands off the cone, topped with a generous, creamy scoop, golden cookie bits glistening. “I get it. Motorcycles are loud. But do they have to be so loud they drive my foot traffic away?”
I take the cone over the counter, wordless. I’m not prepared to offer a solution or negotiate this conversation right now. Especially not with the hot guy from the barbecue. I need to exit as soon as possible.
All I manage is an “uh” before I lick the cone.
Finn’s smile twitches, like he’s modulating his reactions to me. “Okay, then. What do you think of the new flavor?”
I swallow, thinking carefully. “It should be snickerdoodles,” I say.
That makes the smile finally disappear, my rude ass wearing him down. Finn sputters. “Okay!” he says. “Sure! I guess… snickerdoodles….” I watch the expressions dance over his features as he struggles to stay friendly. He clearly doesn’t like my suggestion, but I’m pretty sure it’s just because it’s a good idea.
Typical me, I don’t have the common sense to drop the topic when I should.
“I’m right. Snickerdoodles would work better, right? Big chunks like this.”
“Big chunks, no.” Finn swallows. “And there’s not better,” he objects. “There’s just different flavor sensations.”
“Flavor sensations?”
He gestures to the sign across the front of the counter.Try All Sixteen Flavor Sensations!I spot a coupleStar Trekfigures set up above it, Sulu and Data posed in a showdown over an ice cream cone with a Borg. Great characters, although the scene raises questions about continuity, but I don’t let that distract me.
I lick the ice cream again. “It’s fine like this. But if you want to use my idea and change it to snickerdoodles, go right ahead.”
“Well, thank you for your permission,” he says, as though exasperated.
“You asked,” I counter. Why the hell do people ask your opinion when they don’t want it?
“And I’m also asking you to find a way to quiet the ruckus across the street, but it might be difficult to hear that request over your noisy shop.” His lips purse tight, like he’s surprised to hear his own words. It’s obvious to me that he’s not typically someone who likes to bicker, or whatever the hell it is we’re doing.
“I heard you. You want us to stop being a motorcycle shop.” I lick more ice cream, aware that I need to end this conversation and get away before I permanently fuck our relationship with our neighbor. “But we can’t.”
“If you’d spend some time around the gayborhood, you’d see that we nurture a friendly atmosphere. When one neighbor has an issue, everyone works to resolve any conflict without lingering acrimony.” He scoops some peppermint, then flingsit back into the bucket, his friendly demeanor continuing to deteriorate.
“Acrimony,” I repeat. I bite the cone, feeling embarrassed that I thought he might be interested in me at the barbecue. We obviously clash. And telling me Chase’s business can’t exist here, that’s acrimony. I bite the cone again, then gesture to him with it. “In that case, I should go before I blame your poor foot traffic on picking the wrong cookie.”
Finn throws his hands up. “Well I’m certainly delighted that you came to say hello, Riley!”
I harrumph. “Best of luck with your flavor sensations,” I say, slap a ten on the counter for the cone despite his objections, and turn on my heel to march out.
When I get on the street, my heart is beating fast.
What the fuck just happened?
I feel like I stepped off a roller coaster. Part of me knows I need to march back in to The Scoop and apologize, but I don’t even let myself glance over my shoulder. I’d probably just fuck the whole thing up more.
Anyway, he’s the one who has the problem with me, apparently.
When I get to the garage, Chase sees the expression on my face and frowns. “Not good?”
“You’re right,” I tell him. “He’s upset about the noise.”
I go straight to work, throwing myself into the day’s jobs to distract from the disaster that just unfolded. Whatever spark I thought I felt at the picnic, it combusted into something upsetting and confusing. The first guy I’ve taken an interest in since I don’t know when, probably the nicest guy in town, and somehow I still manage to make an argument out of it.
