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“Okay.”
Music came blaring out of the speakers when Mal started his truck.
“How do you listen to that crap, and so loud?”
“It’s not crap,” he retorted, turning the volume down. “You need to have a better appreciation for Kendrick Lamar.”
“Do I?”
“Yes.” He gave me his signature boyish grin before cranking the volume back up.
The bass of his stereo system vibrated through the truck making my chest feel strange. How was he not deaf? The stereo in his Land Rover rivaled that of any night club or maybe it was because of the concentrated space it felt so much louder. I had to laugh when he started rattling off the lyrics of the song, words I couldn’t even understand. His head bopped along to the beat in perfect rhythm as he seat-danced for the duration of the ten-minute drive to Bruster’s.
“I choose the music on the way home,” I said when he turned the car off.
“You know you enjoyed the show,” he replied with a wink.
We got our ice cream then headed over toward one of the benches.
“You have a sweet tooth?” he asked before taking a lick of his chocolate.
“Not really, but I needed out of the house. Call it a jail break,” I answered with a small laugh before tasting my cotton candy explosion.
Mom kept watching me and asking if I felt dizzy. They were still worried as to why I’d passed out. I wished I could tell them I was having the panic attacks again, the few I’d had around them were never that bad. They’d happened before I’d begun therapy. I was lucky—if I could even use that word—because the worst of it came when I was alone, mostly at night. Plus, telling them would trigger a slew of why questions I didn’t want to answer. I certainly didn’t want Malcolm to know how big a role he was playing in my apparent ungluing. It wasn’t fair to him that I couldn’t keep it together. After all, he wasn’t really doing anything wrong.
“Mom’s been a bit overzealous in her need to take care of me.” I held up my arm, which was partially covered in the brace. “It’s a sprain, but she’s been acting like it’s broken, and I’m unable to do anything for myself.”
“Ah, well she’s just worried.” He paused. “We all are.”
I focused on my ice cream. “I know.”
I took another lick of my ice cream before getting up to throw it away.
“Didn’t like it?”
“Not really. I really should stick to what I know instead of trying new things.”
“Trying new things isn’t always bad,” he replied with a smirk.
“Are we still talking about ice cream?”
“If you like,” he answered, taking another lick of his.
Watching him do that gave me a feeling I’d not experienced in a long time, an instant warming sensation between my legs. I pressed them together as I inched away from him. Malcolm sat with his arm lying on the back of the bench, his long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle, and he was completely unaware of how his innocent actions were bringing to life feelings I’d thought were dead and buried.
Malcolm continued to enjoy his ice cream as he looked around at the other patrons scattered about. He even started humming while taking slow, long licks. While his attention was on our surroundings, mine was on his mouth. The way his tongue curled just a bit right before it retreated back into his mouth. The way his lips puckered when he moved to catch a falling drip of his treat. The memories of the few kisses we’d shared made their way to the forefront, and I found myself actually wanting to experience one right then. What the hell was wrong with me?
“So,” he said, turning his attention back to me, but his words stopped and the most delicious smile spread across his face.
Mine heated up in response, and quickly diverted my eyes. Longer hair would have been ideal in that moment, so it could help hide my embarrassment.
Malcolm slid closer to me. “Would you like some?”
I shook my head.
“Are you sure?” he teased. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him take another deliberately slow lick of his ice cream. “I think you picked the wrong flavor. Seems to me you are most certainly a lover of chocolate.”
“Chocolate is actually kind of plain for my liking,” I countered, looking up to see the playful gleam in his eyes.
