“Wow. Monroe was right.” He bites into his cone.
“Who’s Monroe?”
“My roommate.”
“You told your roommate about me?”
“Maybe.” He glances away, but I don’t miss his tiny grin.
“Maybe I should tell people it’s from a fight. That’s cooler, right?” I say, just to see his reaction.
“I mean …” he shrugs. “It’s your scar. You can say whatever you want. I have my own stories.”
“About scars?”
Flynn shoves the rest of the cone into his mouth and lifts his shirt, exposing his chest riddled with scars of different sizes and shapes. “I was treated like shit in foster care,” he mumbles while chewing. “But I tell people I was in the military, and their pity turns into gratitude for my service. Way cooler.”
I can’t peel my gaze from his chest until he lowers his shirt. There aresomany scars.
“See. You’re giving me that pity look,” he says.
“I don’t pity you. I mean, it sucks that you feel the need to lie about it.” I lift my gaze to his. “But I said yes to meeting you for ice cream. You have no idea how special that makes you.”
His grin swells. It’s a beautiful, genuine smile. And I like the way his eyes shine when he looks at me.
“But”—I glance at my watch, feeling vulnerable, like he can see my attraction to him—“I should go.” There’s nowhere I need to be, but I think playing hard to get, at first, is a good idea.
“We just got here,” he says.
I show him my empty bowl. “We had ice cream. Now it’s gone.” I stand.
“Let me give you a ride home so you don’t have to pay for one.”
“We haven’t established that level of trust yet.” I toss my cup and spoon into the garbage by the corner of the brick building.
“We? I’d let you give me a ride home,” he says, shoving the unused napkins into his pocket.
I follow his hand before looking at his sly grin.
“They’ll throw them away. I’ll use them at home,” he says.
This guy …
“I’ll get a ride this time. But thank you for the ice cream.” I slide my phone from my bag.
“This timemeans there will be other times.”
Shit.
I said that.
I press my lips together while my thumbs move across my phone’s screen. Then I look up at Flynn and shrug. “We’ll see.”
He has the sexiest grin. “So, should I kiss you now or wait until your ride gets here?”
“Whoa there, bud. I don’t kiss on a first date.”
His face sours as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Then what do you do on a first date?”
