Finn raises up a slight smile. “Rocky roadster,” he agrees.
I blink. “The ice cream,” I tell him, recovering. “It’s great.”
“Thank you.” He steps a little closer, pushed by the crowd. “I thought we all deserved something sweet, considering the summer we’ve had.”
Before either of us can get another word in, Finn gets pulled aside. I puff out some of the nervous energy I’m holding and devour the rest of the ice cream. As I stand in the back awkwardly, I wait for a chance to say something to him, try again to find a moment to apologize, but it seems like everyone is clamoring for his attention.
I’ll have to try later, I decide, and head out the door and back to the shop.
Thoughts racing, I hop on my ride and take off.
I want Finn, and now I need to figure out what I’m going to do about it.
