But it helped.
“Thanks,” Dustin said.
He opened his eyes. Greg was pointedly not watching him, as if he understood that Dustin had needed a minute to himself.
Dustin appreciated that more than he could say.
He said something else instead. “You did good in there with Marco.”
“Thank you,” Greg said softly.
“Really, I mean it,” Dustin insisted. He remembered what he'd told Greg over dinner, that he hadn't really chosen this life, this job for himself, but watching him in that room, holding a dying man's hand, promising him that what came next was beautiful…
Whatever else was true, Greg had been made for helping people.
“Come on,” Dustin said, standing up. “I'll buy you a milkshake.”
Greg blinked. “What?”
“I'm buying you a milkshake,” Dustin repeated. “It'll be our third date. Maybe it'll end with a kiss, wouldn't that be nice?” That last part he added only to rile Greg up, and, predictably, the reaper shot to his feet, turned red and started sputtering.
“A kiss?!” His eyes went comically wide. “But I— You— We?—”
“Yes, we,” Dustin confirmed. “Do you not want a milkshake? You can have chocolate again.”
“But I can't date you!”
“Oh, don't hurt me like that. I won't tell anyone if you won't.” He winked at Greg and turned to walk. “Now are you coming or not?”
It took only a moment until Dustin heard footsteps following him.
Without meaning to, he smiled.
CHAPTER 17
Dustin took him to an ice cream parlor and Greg was a little overwhelmed, marveling upon rows and rows of colorful ice cream in metal tubs.
Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, Pralines and Cream and something called Rocky Road…
There were so many flavors, how was he ever going to make a choice?
The teenager behind the counter already looked bored waiting for him to come to a decision.
“Don't stress so much.”
Greg blinked. Dustin was watching him with that half-smile that made Greg's stomach do strange things.
“Do you want ice cream or milkshake?” Dustin asked. “You can't really go wrong.”
Greg licked his lips.
He'd liked the milkshake. He'd liked it very much. But tasting ice cream in its pure form could also be good. What if he liked it more? What if he didn't? What if he made the wrong decision and regretted it for the rest of his existence?
Don't stress so much, Dustin had said.
“Ice cream,” Greg heard himself say.
Dustin nodded like this was the correct answer. “Good. Now you just have to pick a flavor.”
