Page 103 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions

“Oh Jesus, not in front of the kids.”

“They don’t even understand what I’m saying,” I muttered with a laugh. “And they’re not paying attention, even if they did.” It was true. Both kids were too absorbed in their own food to care what we were doing.

“Fine.”

I waited.

George sighed, his s’more still clutched tight in his grip. “How do you like your men, Alex?”

“Melted and sticky.”

“That wasn’t even good,” George snorted. “Was definitely not worth the build-up you gave it.”

I shrugged, leaned in close, and opened my mouth expectantly again. I was pushing my luck. Especially after my terrible joke, and I knew it. Chances were, George would shove me off, or smash his s’more against my face. I was…strangely okay with that.

I liked my odds.

In response to my wagging eyebrows, George sighed. Withdeliberateextra grumpiness, he gently pressed the treat to my lips so I could take another bite. “Why don’t you make your own?” George grouched. “Rather than mooching off mine.”

“That’s not the only thing I wish I was mooching off of,” I muffled around my bite. George’s whole face scrunched up with disgust, so I didn’t speak again until after I’d finished chewing.

“What?” he said, confused.

“Sorry, I meant smooching. My bad.”

“Oh my god.” George grabbed a napkin, smearing it across my lips more roughly than was necessary to clear them of crumbs and chocolate. It was oddly domestic, and seriously fucking cute. Patrick ruined the moment by belching.

I chuckled, flicked my tongue along my teeth to make sure they were clean, then opened my mouth expectantly again.

“Make your own,” George grumbled, already feeding me another bite despite his protests.

I swallowed, then grinned. “Why would I? When the way yours tastes is better.”

“We’re using the same ingredients. They’ll taste the same,” George glared at me, clutching the rest of his s’more close to his chest like he worried I was going to snatch it right out of his hands.

God, he was so cute.

And stingy.

And generous, all at once.

“Butyoumade this one,” I argued. “Therefore, it’s better.”

“Do you want me to make one for you, too?” George asked. I had no doubt he would do it. But I shook my head. The real joy had come from sharing with him and the fact that he was willing to indirectly touch mouths with me.

Gave me hope that the spark between us could lead to him accepting my offer.

Though, I forced that hope aside as quickly as it came.

I didn’t want to be disappointed.

“I’m good,” I said. “I had enough. But thank you.” I licked my lips deliberately. Georgestared. “You’re very generous.” He blinked, then shook his head quickly, like he was dazed.

“I’m not—I mean,” George’s face went bright red. He stuffed his s’more into his mouth to shut himself up. I adjusted Patrick on my leg, and tried not to ogle. But that was impossible. Because George was fucking adorable with his cheeks puffed up. Pretty little chipmunk.

“C’mon, Mavis. Let’s go find your mom,” George urged when he’d finished eating. He cleaned himself off meticulously, then rose to his feet, effortlessly slinging Mavis into his arms. She clung to his side, sticky chocolate fingersleaving a smear on George’s shoulder. He didn’t say anything, even though I knew for a fact the shirt was expensive.

I had one just like it back home.

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