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We continue to the end of the beach, focusing on our ice cream. Thousands of thoughts pass through my mind, and at the same time a peace descends on me. It might be the familiar sunny neighborhood, but I think it’s the company as well.
“Where do you know the vendor from?” Gio catches my elbow as I lose my balance on the soft surface. He helps me jump onto the wooden path, so we can cross to get to the intersection.
“I used to have ice cream here more than my hips would ever admit. I can’t believe he still remembers me though. It’s been a year now.” A wave of melancholy washes over me. I didn’t realize I missed this place.
“I doubt anyone forgets you.”
I’m not sure I heard him correctly as a convertible roars past us. I’m not even sure if it’s a compliment, but it warms my insides.
I don’t put my shoes on, padding across the busy street carefree, biting my bottom lip because Gio’s discomfort is practically clouding the air.
We get to the park, throw away the empty cups, and I drop my shoes and sit down on the perfectly manicured grass. “Come on, join me.”
He shifts from one foot to another, eyeing me with that face he makes—a mixture of disdain and disbelief, with a dash of disgust. I used to hate that face, but I’m starting to enjoy it. It’s like he’s suffering at the mere thought of doing something trivial.
“I don’t sit on grass,” he pushes through his teeth.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I lie down—probably not a good idea if my dress should last for the day—to demonstrate what a delight it is to lounge in the grass. “You’re a beekeeper. Didn’t you tell me something about connecting with nature?”
He frowns and fidgets for a moment and I almost give up, but he takes off his suit jacket. Placing it carefully beside me, he lowers himself down.
“Are you afraid of ants?” I squint against the sun at him.
He’s sitting on half of his ass only, minimizing any contact with the ground.
“No, I’m not,” he snaps, but relaxes a little.
This is ridiculous. I pull him down. Catching him by surprise, I actually move his firm body and he collapses beside me.
I close my eyes and sigh in delight—well, the closing of my eyes is more to avoid his glare. I assume he’s glaring, but he is not moving, so I guess I won.
We lie there, the sun kissing our skin. The sound of a tennis ball from the courts to the side interrupts the silence with a rhythmic thump, but otherwise it’s just our breathing. Simple. Vital. And somehow connected.
“So, no ice cream and no laying in the grass. Are those things too common for you?” I tease.
“It’s not like my lifestyle allows much time for these… normal things.”
Again, he refers to normal as unattainable.
“But your lifestyle is your choice. Even a busy businessman can stop for a cone of delicious treat.”
“I don’t have time.”
“You don’t make time.”
A shadow blocks the sun’s rays, and I open my eyes and meet his gaze. He’s lifted up on one elbow, watching me with interest. A softer look than his usual annoyed glare. “To be honest, I haven’t even thought of going for ice cream.”
“I have a feeling you got a taste now just to remember how trivial and unnecessary it is.” I push up on to my elbows, our faces closer now.
A bit too close. If I move a couple of inches, my lips would brush his.
As soon as the thought flickers through my mind, it spreads like a virus, taking over my brain. My eyes drop to his lips. My lips part of their own accord.Look up, Mila, look up.
I do. I shouldn’t have. His gaze is heated now. Our chests heave. The tennis ball bounce is deafening and non-existent at the same time.
I want him to kiss me. No doubt he wants to. Yet he can’t. I sigh, and a shadow passes over his face.
I jerk up to sitting. No point in torturing ourselves with something that can’t happen. Not while he’s my boss. I dust my dress with unnecessary vigor, regretting the silly idea of bringing him here.
