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"I know you do."
"Maybe we should both think about it."
"Yeah," Wilder says before parking in front of the Big Dipper Creamery.
We get out and keep our distance as we walk over to a window to order.
"Welcome to Big Dipper Creamery," Jensen Olsen smiles at us. He's a year younger than we are, but when you live in a small town, everyone knows pretty much everyone. "What creamy concoction can we fill your cone with?"
Wilder hides a smile. "They pay you to say that Jensen?"
Jensen rolls his eyes. "No, I'm supposed to say, 'What creamy mess can we drizzle on your milkers', but that's just embarrassing."
"Milkers?" I laugh. "Who came up with that?"
Jensen throws a thumb over his shoulder. "The owner. She was looking for a hip word to call milkshakes. She decided on milkers."
"What is wrong with this town?" Wilder runs a hand over his face. "If it's not bushes, it's milkers."
I let out a small giggle as Wilder's eyes lock with mine. "You think that's funny, Blondie?"
"I would like a vanilla milker," I wink at Wilder. "And can you drizzle some marshmallow cream all over it?"
Jensen's face burns red. "One vanilla milker drizzled in marshmallow cream coming up."
"That wasn't very nice," Wilder tsks me.
"I'm not very nice," I return as I nudge him with my hip.
The expression on Wilder's face is hard to read. "I'm starting to think hidden beneath your good girl facade is a rebel."
I purse my lips. "I guess that depends."
"On?"
I turn to face him. "On how much clothing I'm wearing."
Wilder's teeth sink into his bottom lip. "You're a tease."
Jensen hands me my milker before taking Wilder's order. When he's gone, I lick the marshmallow cream off the rim of the Styrofoam cup. "I'd let you drizzle your marshmallow cream all over my milkers, but you have some thinking to do."
His fingers find the hem of my white sundress. "So do you."
"I guess we better get thinking then," I flash my eyebrows at him.
Jensen returns, and hands over a chocolate-dipped cone before Wilder pays. I don't bother offering to foot the bill. If Wilder wants to hold it over my head, I'm sure I can think of a creative way to pay him back. In fact, I'd love to owe him. I can think of a few ways to settle the score right now as our eyes stay glued on each other.
I didn't think I'd survive this summer. Now, I'm not sure how I'm going to survive once the summer is over.
Chapter 17
The Insecure Hookup
I eat my cereal in silence. Silence. It's blissful. Queen Isla and Frank the Fornicator haven't been back since Isla decided to move out a week ago.
We have a bet going.
Mom thinks she won't be back at all. Dad says he's giving it a month because she wants to prove a point. I think they're both wrong. Any day now, Isla is going to waltz back in with her stupid red suitcase. My sister cannot—and will not—share a bathroom with four boys. How she's managed this long is beyond me.
