“Ready?” Devon asks.
“Sure. Let’s go.” I’m not sure any amount of time will be enough for me to want to go back to this task. At least it’s a good distraction from everything going on in my head. Between the hard work and Matthias’s revelation, I almost forgot about the calculus exam.
Almost.
MATTHIAS
I’m a nervous wreck. If someone walked in here, they’d think I was the one waiting to hear about a grade. Even when I had to wait to find out if I passed my certification exams, I don’t think I got quite this worked up.
Frank’s worked so hard, and I know it’ll break him if he didn’t do well. I might have a few ideas to help cheer him up. Though I’m hopeful that they’ll be for celebratory purposes only. It’s nice how ice cream can go either way.
I check the time—again. It’s a little later than he usually gets here after class. Fine, it’s five minutes later at this point, but it’s enough to get me worked up. I didn’t receive any messages from him, but I’m worried he might not send me one if he didn’t get the grade he wanted. He claims it’s not a big deal, but I could tell from his messages over the weekend that he was concerned. I hate that he won’t trust me enough to say it.
He doesn’t owe me anything. We’re barely friends. Not really. Our study session the other night was the most time we’ve spent together in—well, since the night I found him in my yard. It broke my resolve. I might not have a clue what I’m doing, but I can’t stay away from him anymore. What that means in the long term, I don’t know yet. I don’t want to spring this on him. A little wooing in the form of ice cream and rewards for a job well done (or at least attempted) is in order.
I hope that he’s not staying away from me. Before I can let that thought sink in, Frank’s car pulls up in front of my house. I let a big sigh, thankful he’s here. Whatever happens, I know we can deal with it as long as he’s safe.
It takes way too long for him to get from his car to my front door, and my patience starts to run out.
“Guess what?” Frank hollers as he steps inside, pausing only long enough to slip off his shoes. I’ve given him a security code so he can come and go as he wants without worry. I love that even though he knows I’m home, he didn’t knock first.
“What?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
“I got an A. An actual A!” He’s practically yelling, but since it’s with excitement, I let it go. He holds up what must be his test in front of him, waving it wildly. “Technically, it’s an A-minus, but that’s still an A.”
“That’s incredible. I knew you could do it.” I sweep him up into a hug, pulling him close. He’s still wearing his winter coat, but he feels good pressed against me. I squeeze him tight, holding on a few seconds longer than I should. It feels so good to have him in my arms again. I’ve kept my hands to myself in our encounters, but finally getting to hold him again feels right. Something inside me settles in a way I didn’t expect.
I pull away and straighten. “I’m so proud of you. Now we celebrate.” I don’t want to let him go, but I want him to get the celebration he deserves. Plus, I’m hoping it means I can get close to him again later.
“Celebrate?” he asks.
“Put your coat up and meet me in the kitchen.” He gives me a strange look but darts off to the front entrance. I finally peel my gaze away from him and make myself busy. I hope he likes what I have planned. It’s not easy coming up with something as a reward. At least not when I only know bits and pieces about him. If he was my boy—I cut off that train of thought before I get too far ahead of myself.
I pull out the cartons of ice cream from the freezer and a few toppings from the fridge.
“Oh my God, ice cream.” The happy look on his face starts to fade immediately.
“It’s all coconut milk ice cream,” I say quickly. “So hopefully, you can eat it.” It took some research to ensure that everything I got would be suitable for his allergies. “Everything else is also safe, but I have all the original packaging, so you can check for yourself.” I don’t expect him to take my word for it. If it was me, I’d never trust anyone. The fact that he continues to put his faith in me is intoxicating. I’ll do everything in my power to maintain that trust.
“Really?” He looks over the buffet set out in my kitchen. Imayhave gone a little overboard, but I wanted to be sure I had his favorites. Since I didn’t know precisely what those were, I got a little bit of everything. It’s part of the reason I left work early this afternoon. I ran by a specialty store to get all the things I needed to make this sundae bar happen. It also gave me a chance to stop by and see the progress on my backyard in the light of day. I hoped that maybe I could find an excuse to talk to Frank, but I got caught up with Sam. If Sam caught on to my interest in his employee, he’d never shut up about it. If I get my way, I’ll eventually have to tell him. But that’s a future problem.
Frank picks up a couple of the containers and turns them over in his hands a few times, looking at the labels. I felt safe purchasing things labeled as vegan, but I don’t know enough to be sure. A fact I plan to rectify with extensive research over the next few weeks. I’m happy he’s taking a few seconds to look over my work. He stares at the container of whipped cream, or rather whipped cream substitute, for an extra long time. When he looks up, his eyes are glassy and full of tears.
“What’s the matter? Did I get the wrong thing?” I should’ve done that research first. I had no idea how hard itwould be to find things. It gave me a brief glimpse into the daily difficulty Frank faces, simply trying to ensure he has enough to eat.
“It’s perfect,” he whispers. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
I open my mouth to push back. I mean, it’s ice cream. It’s nice, but it’s not a big deal. Except from the expression on Frank’s face, it clearly is. “You’re welcome.” My throat tightens as I get the words out. He deserves a lot more than this. “How about we dish some of this up and then we can move to the living room to watch a movie?”
“Yes, please.” He licks his lips, and I turn away so my mind doesn’t get any ideas of what else he could do with that tongue.
It’s not long before I have two scoops of ice cream in my bowl—one chocolate and one cookie dough—along with a small helping of whipped cream. It looks indulgent, but nothing compared to the concoction Frank’s put together. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’d never had ice cream before. Now, thinking about his reaction, I wonder how long it’s been since he had a treat like this. His bowl is piled high with a scoop of each of the four flavors I chose—including the coconut mojito, which doesn’t seem like it will pair well—plus whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and sprinkles. I’ll be surprised if he eats the whole thing. Or avoids a massive stomachache.
Sundaes ready, we retire to the living room, where the TV has a few options ready for him to choose from. “Pick whatever you like,” I say as I settle on the sofa.
He flips through the options for a few seconds before landing on a newer action movie I haven’t seen yet.
“This okay?”
