Page 54
We go around the building. There isn't much to see. I'll have to discuss with Nate on bringing it back to life. We return to my car. She stops. Turns. Her lips part slightly, and for a second, she just looks at me.
Like she’s seeing something she wasn’t expecting. Her fingers flex at her sides, and I swear she’s about to say something but then Buddy jumps out from the back seat, leash tangling around my legs, and the moment shatters.
I clear my throat. “C’mon. Let’s get ice cream at Warren's.”
The bell above the door jingles as we step inside. The place is the same as it’s always been … sticky booths, posters of sundaes that haven’t been updated in a decade, a line of kids smudging the glass display with tiny fingers.
Emma grins. “Mint chip, right?” I smirk. “Rocky road?”
She nods like she never left. Like we never lost those years between us. Minutes later, we’re back outside, ice cream cones in hand, Buddy tugging at his leash, sniffing for dropped crumbs.
Emma takes a slow lick of her mint chip, then flicks her gaze up at me, all innocent mischief. “You have a little something…”
Before I can react, she smears a stripe of green across my nose. I freeze.
Her giggle light, breathless wraps around me like a hook, sharp and sudden, tugging me under.
I wipe my nose, giving her a look. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.” She shrieks as I reach for her, stepping back too fast. “Bryan, don’t…”
Too late. I swipe a streak of chocolate against her cheek, and she gasps, touching her face in horror. “You’re dead.” She lunges, laughing, and we’re twelve again, sixteen again, seventeen and stealing time. Buddy barks, jumping between us, his tail wagging like this is the best day of his life.
And maybe it is. For me too. Emma’s got ice cream dripping down her wrist, her cheeks flushed pink from the chase. Her smirk is pure trouble as she lifts her cone threateningly. “One more step, and this is going in your hair.”
I hold up my hands, feigning surrender. “Truce?” She squints. “Hmm. Say I’m the best.”
I step closer, dropping my voice low. “You already know you are.”
Her breath catches, her fingers flex around her cone, and the moment shifts, softens. Her gaze flickers down to my mouth, just for a second.
It’s instinct to close the space, to lean in. She turns, bolting for the bench. “Race you!”
I blink, thrown off for half a second before I take off after her, chasing the sound of her laughter.
She trips. I catch her. My arm wraps around her waist, steadying her before she can fall, her body pressed against mine, her breath warm against my collarbone.
Neither of us moves. The world around us slows, just us, just this. Her hands grip my arms lightly, fingers curling like she wants to hold on but doesn’t know if she should.
I don’t let go. Not yet. She tilts her head back, eyes flicking up, and I swear she’s daring me to just do it. To just close the space.
But as I move, she straightens, adjusting her hoodie, pretending her pulse isn’t hammering as hard as mine. “You okay?” she asks, breathless.
I exhale, running a hand through my hair.No. Not even close. But I smirk, because that’s what we do. “You’re a menace.”
She laughs softly, and I’d chase that sound to the end of the earth. We sit down, ice cream melting between us, breath still uneven from running, from almost … I glance at her, and she’s looking at me like she’s seeing something she wasn’t ready to see.
Maybe it’s the same thing I’m finally ready to say. As her phone buzzes, she stiffens, blinking down at the screen.
She mutters, “One sec,” stepping just far enough away that I can’t hear.
My stomach tightens. I watch her, the way she tucks her hair behind her ear, the way her brows furrow, the way her lips press together in something between worry and resolve.
I shouldn’t care. I do. I force myself to focus on Buddy, scratching behind his ears, but my mind is already racing.
Who is she talking to? And why does it feel like she’s slipping away again?
She turns back, her smile softer, controlled, guarded again. “All good.”
She sits, taking another bite of her ice cream like nothing happened. I nod, slow. But something in me is unsettling.
Like she’s seeing something she wasn’t expecting. Her fingers flex at her sides, and I swear she’s about to say something but then Buddy jumps out from the back seat, leash tangling around my legs, and the moment shatters.
I clear my throat. “C’mon. Let’s get ice cream at Warren's.”
The bell above the door jingles as we step inside. The place is the same as it’s always been … sticky booths, posters of sundaes that haven’t been updated in a decade, a line of kids smudging the glass display with tiny fingers.
Emma grins. “Mint chip, right?” I smirk. “Rocky road?”
She nods like she never left. Like we never lost those years between us. Minutes later, we’re back outside, ice cream cones in hand, Buddy tugging at his leash, sniffing for dropped crumbs.
Emma takes a slow lick of her mint chip, then flicks her gaze up at me, all innocent mischief. “You have a little something…”
Before I can react, she smears a stripe of green across my nose. I freeze.
Her giggle light, breathless wraps around me like a hook, sharp and sudden, tugging me under.
I wipe my nose, giving her a look. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.” She shrieks as I reach for her, stepping back too fast. “Bryan, don’t…”
Too late. I swipe a streak of chocolate against her cheek, and she gasps, touching her face in horror. “You’re dead.” She lunges, laughing, and we’re twelve again, sixteen again, seventeen and stealing time. Buddy barks, jumping between us, his tail wagging like this is the best day of his life.
And maybe it is. For me too. Emma’s got ice cream dripping down her wrist, her cheeks flushed pink from the chase. Her smirk is pure trouble as she lifts her cone threateningly. “One more step, and this is going in your hair.”
I hold up my hands, feigning surrender. “Truce?” She squints. “Hmm. Say I’m the best.”
I step closer, dropping my voice low. “You already know you are.”
Her breath catches, her fingers flex around her cone, and the moment shifts, softens. Her gaze flickers down to my mouth, just for a second.
It’s instinct to close the space, to lean in. She turns, bolting for the bench. “Race you!”
I blink, thrown off for half a second before I take off after her, chasing the sound of her laughter.
She trips. I catch her. My arm wraps around her waist, steadying her before she can fall, her body pressed against mine, her breath warm against my collarbone.
Neither of us moves. The world around us slows, just us, just this. Her hands grip my arms lightly, fingers curling like she wants to hold on but doesn’t know if she should.
I don’t let go. Not yet. She tilts her head back, eyes flicking up, and I swear she’s daring me to just do it. To just close the space.
But as I move, she straightens, adjusting her hoodie, pretending her pulse isn’t hammering as hard as mine. “You okay?” she asks, breathless.
I exhale, running a hand through my hair.No. Not even close. But I smirk, because that’s what we do. “You’re a menace.”
She laughs softly, and I’d chase that sound to the end of the earth. We sit down, ice cream melting between us, breath still uneven from running, from almost … I glance at her, and she’s looking at me like she’s seeing something she wasn’t ready to see.
Maybe it’s the same thing I’m finally ready to say. As her phone buzzes, she stiffens, blinking down at the screen.
She mutters, “One sec,” stepping just far enough away that I can’t hear.
My stomach tightens. I watch her, the way she tucks her hair behind her ear, the way her brows furrow, the way her lips press together in something between worry and resolve.
I shouldn’t care. I do. I force myself to focus on Buddy, scratching behind his ears, but my mind is already racing.
Who is she talking to? And why does it feel like she’s slipping away again?
She turns back, her smile softer, controlled, guarded again. “All good.”
She sits, taking another bite of her ice cream like nothing happened. I nod, slow. But something in me is unsettling.
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