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He smiles at her. “This is a surprise. Did you come in for more pictures?”

“We came in for ice cream. This one had a hard day.”

He tilts his head at me. “Oh, yeah?”

My cheeks heat and I wave away Grandma’s words and his concern. “No, it was fine. I’m just milking her for free food.”

Logan laughs and Grandma swipes at me with her left hand. “You!” She turns to Logan. “Give me the orange sherbet.”

“And I’ll take a scoop of Buckeye in a cup,” I tell him.

He nods and gets to work. It’s so weird to see him in this context, although I guess that isn’t really fair. I don’t know anything about him other than he goes to my school and plays D&D. But still, I would never have expected to find him wearing a pink visor and scooping ice cream.

Grandma insists on paying and then points to Logan. “You should take your break so you can sit with us.”

“Oh, um…” He looks around uncomfortably. “I just got here. I can’t take—”

“Excuse me?” Grandma calls to the man lingering toward the back who is clearly the manager. “Can you let this young man have a few minutes of break? He’s a dear friend and I’d love to catch up with him.”

“Grandma!” I hiss. The heat of my embarrassment is going to melt my ice cream into soup. No wonder Andrew never wants to hang out with Grandma. He has more self-preservation than me.

“Uh, well…,” the manager says.

Grandma gives him a coy smile. I bet she was charming (or some might say conniving) in her day. “It’s quiet. I’m sure you can spare him for a few minutes. I do love coming here for ice cream. Best in the county!”

The man shrugs. “Yeah, all right. Go ahead, Logan.”

Logan cuts a quick glance at me and follows us to a small table in the back corner.

“How’d you like that?” she asks in triumph.

“You’re a miracle worker,” Logan whispers. “Mr.Avery is a stickler about breaks and lunchtimes.”

“I’ve always had a way with men. Under the right circumstances, I could have one eating out of my hand in twenty minutes flat.” She raises her eyebrows at me. “Sometimes literally.”

I cough into my ice cream and drop my eyes to the table rather than see Logan’s (probably horrified) expression. He’s occupied more of my thoughts over the last few days than I’d like to admit, but this is not how I envisioned seeing him again. That moment in his truck has been on repeat in my mind. Has he been thinking about me as well?

“So, you’re feeling better now?” Logan asks me.

“What’s this?” Grandma asks.

“Quinn’s ear infection. She could barely keep herself upright the last time I saw her.”

“Infection!” Grandma cries, and puts her spoon down. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

Heat races up my neck and face. I really hoped he’d forgotten about that. “No, Grandma, everything’s fine. I’m not sick.” I glance at Logan. “It was a false alarm. I’m fine now.”

He cocks his head. “A false alarm, huh?” The corner of his mouth lifts in a smile. “Interesting.”

My cheeks get even hotter. It’s possible he’s realizing I was a big lying liar the last time I saw him.

Grandma hoots and waves at someone across the ice cream parlor. “Cheryl!” She turns to us. “That’s my hairdresser. I’ll be right back!”

She hurries off and we sit in silence across from each other. Of course Grandma immediately ran into someone she knows and abandons me. I poke at my ice cream awkwardly.

“Is it good?” he asks.

“Yeah, lots of peanut butter.” I lick my spoon and his eyes track the movement. My pulse leaps in response. I’m not remotely prepared to be alone with Logan this afternoon, especially when I can’t figure out if he wants to kiss me, kick me out of D&D, or both. I search my mind for a neutral topic to bring up.