My heart lurches in my chest.
Am I safe?
Calm down and focus on your date.
“Serenity?” Chris gingerly squeezes my hand and nods toward the cashier.
I smile. “Two scoops of cotton candy ice cream in a cup.”
I get a cup instead of a cone so I can make a quick exit if need be.
We collect our ice cream.
“Let’s sit in the booth,” Chris suggests.
His eyes move around the ice cream shop. “There’s a lot of security here. Are we expecting the president?”
I don’t bother looking around. “I can’t wait to see what you think about the cotton candy flavor,” I say, changing the subject.
We sink into the booth across from each other. I face the door because that’s what Dad taught me to do.
“Yeah, I figured one scoop of cotton candy and two scoops of mint chocolate chip would work. Just in case I didn’t like the cotton candy,” he says with a smile.
We laugh and grin at each other as we dig into our ice cream.
“I guess I’ll see you on the field. Or shall I say I’ll cheer you on from the sidelines.”
Chris’s face lights up. “You’re a cheerleader?”
“Yes,” I chuckle.
“That’s great,” he shovels a spoonful of cotton candy ice cream into his mouth.
“I’ll take two scoops of cotton candy on a waffle cone,” I hear a familiar voice say.
The tiny hairs on my arms stand on end.
No, no, no.
I feel eyes on me. Instead of looking up, I ask, “What did you think of my favorite flavor?”
Chris moves his head from side to side. “It’s not bad.”
I grin pushing a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth.
“What’s your major?”
His muscled body settles against the high back black booth. “Marketing. What about you?”
“I’m majoring in finance.”
Ignoring those eyes is impossible. I meet his gaze across the shop.
He’s sitting with his back to the window. He never does that. I notice one of his bodyguards standing outside the window, observing the streets of my small college town.
He slides his tongue around the ice cream as he holds my gaze.
Fuck.
