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1
HÄAGEN-DAZS
“Ineed to grab some deodorant.” Without waiting for my response, Caleb wanders off the moment we step through the sliding doors into Publix.
“Hey—meet me in frozen!” I shout at his back.
He doesn’t respond, head down as he checks his phone.
Asshole.He always disappears and then it takes me like ten minutes of prowling the aisles to find him again. Why can’t he just stay by my side? We only came in here for one thing. I swear, next time I’m gonna put Poseidon’s leash on him and give him a tug whenever he tries to wander off.
Speaking of the dog, he’s out waiting in the car with the window cracked. And I’m itching to get to Seattle. I wanna make this detour quick. I snatch up a green shopping basket by the handles and head in the opposite direction of Cay, down towards the ice cream aisle.
It feels like it’s been days since I’ve seen her, instead of only hours. We crossed paths a few times at the practice rink this morning. She watched me doing some drills with the other defensemen out on the ice. Later, she flashed me a flirty wink in the gym that had me adjusting myself over by the elliptical.
But then Mars had to offer her a ride home while I was still tied up with my strength and conditioning coach. Of course, he didn’t meanourhome. You know, the one where shelives. Withme. Cay and I got home to find the house empty. Sy was whining and doing his pee dance by the front door.
Well, fuck that. I’m not spending the whole night crawling out my damn skin needing my girl. I don’t care that she’s off fucking Mars right now. I’m not jealous about the sex. He just wanted time alone with her. As much as I like sharing her, I need my time alone with her too.
But even with his magical Viking cock, he can only go for so many rounds, right? The solo sex is one thing, but he doesn’t just get to keep her locked up all night. She’s mine too. She’sours. Our Finnish friend is gonna learn to share, or I’m about to become a major pain in his sculpted ass.
Rachel brought this on herself when she gave me his address. And with the email that just pinged on my phone fifteen minutes ago, I now have the perfect excuse. We’ll watch game day footage at Ilmari’s house. It’s foolproof. He can’t say no, not when I’m bringing ice cream to share. Their twosome is about to become a foursome.
Well…technically a fivesome, because Caleb made me bring the dog too.
I make a sharp right turn down aisle 12. I’m actually excited. I haven’t had a chance to flex my super power in a while. With Rachel, it was almost too easy. Of course, she’s a sorbet girl. She likes to think she’s cutting the calories with sorbet. And since it’s fruit flavored, instead of chocolate or caramel, she doesn’t have to feel as bad about pounding an entire pint in one sitting.
The only tricky thing is that her tastes change. Does she want something sweet tonight, like a cool refreshing raspberry? Or a tart lemon? What does post-sex Rachel need? Going with my gut, I snatch up a lemon sorbet, and drop it in the basket. Then I stand before the wall of Häagen-Dazs.
“Game time,” I mutter, looking over the labels.
I pluck out a pint of Mint Chip for Caleb from the bottom row. If the special edition Peppermint Bark was available now, I’d be reaching for that instead. But you can always count on that weirdo to want mint in his coffeeandhis ice cream.
The funny thing is that he doesn’t like mint gum. Or mint toothpaste. He prefers cinnamon for his gum. And he uses that weird toothpaste with the baking soda that makes your teeth feel all grainy. It’s gross. Give me peanut butter in my ice cream and mint in my toothpaste.
Eyeing the Chocolate Peanut Butter one row up from the Mint Chip, I grab a pint for myself and add it to the basket. Now comes the hard part. Mars Kinnunen. Usually my super power is almost like a reflex. I justknow…you know? Tess walked in my house the other week and before she even spoke a word, I was ready to offer her a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia.
Our team captain, Sully, is a total Rocky Road. No brand names though. Price over quality. He wants the cheapest, most freezer-burned Rocky Road you can find. I swear, that man has forgotten how to live.
And Morrow tries to play it off like he’s so laid back and cool, but I know he’s a White Chocolate Raspberry Truffle guy.
Novy is lactose intolerant. He had cheese on a pizza once, and I was the unlucky asshole sharing a hotel room with him. I almost made him sleep in the bathtub. So, no ice cream for him.
I smirk, glancing to the left of the Häagen-Dazs case, to see a box of banana pops on the top shelf. Yeah, Novy is a kid’s popsicle. Cheap, sticky sweet, but reliable and satisfying.
None of this helps me now, of course. I’m not here picking out popsicles for Novy or ice cream for Tess. I need to focus. What kind of ice cream would Mars want? My eyes scan the wall of flavors as I mutter under my breath. “Nothing fruity…and nothing with cookies…”
He just doesn’t seem like the type to want fruit in his ice cream. And he’s like Cay with the no drinking thing, so the special edition boozy flavors are out too.
As I deliberate, Caleb saunters up behind me, dropping deodorant, floss, and suntan lotion into the basket. “You ready to go?”
“Shut up,” I murmur, eyes locked on the case. It’s floating right in front of me. I can almost reach out and snatch it from the air, that illusive flavor that best describes Mars. But I can also feel Caleb thinking. “I said shut up,” I repeat.
“I didn’t say anything,” he huffs.
“You’re distracting me.”
“Distracting you from what?”
