Page 54 of Book Boyfriends
“I…” Davis rubs his nape and clicks his tongue a few times. “I wouldn’t want to interfere with your plans.”
“Nah.” Owen makes a dismissive gesture. “You’re not interfering at all.”
“Are you sure?” He looks between me and Owen.
The smart thing is to tell him goodbye. To not drag him along. It’s clear there is something between us. Something I shouldn’t pursue until I resolve the issue of my book boyfriends.
“You should come with us.” My vision locks with his.
What am I doing?It’s like my brain is speaking a different language than the rest of my body. Inviting Davis is a bad idea.Texting Davis is a bad idea. Yet here I am, the queen of bad ideas.
“If you’re sure,” he murmurs.
“I am.”
“Excellent!” Owen grins. “Lead the way, Georgia Peach.”
It’s a short walk to Gemma’s Creamery. Just enough time for Owen to nudge my shoulder and whisper, “He calls you Peach?” and for me to poke him back and mutter, “It’s not likethat.”
The small parlor is quiet, which isn’t surprising on a weekday evening. With its bubble gum pink interior and new selections weekly, Gemma’s is one of my favorite ice cream places. It also takes food allergies and preferences seriously with peanut-free, vegan, and GF-safe sections with dedicated scoopers. Owen gets two scoops of cinnamon roll ice cream from the non-GF section, while Davis and I get single scoops from the GF section; his chocolate, while I choose peanut butter.
Davis isn’t gluten free. It’s just one of the many topics we discussed the other night. I don’t expect the people around me to have the same diet as me. The only time it’s an issue is with shared meals or intimacy. Will would get frustrated when I pulled away from him if he tried to kiss me after he’d been drinking or eating something that could cause a reaction. “It’s a little overkill, Georgia,” he’d scold each time, but he wasn’t the one dealing with a reaction. I was.
“Why two?” I point at the two spoons stabbed into Davis’s ice cream.
“The second one is for you, in case you want to try. I know how you feel about double dipping”—he winks—“but peanut butter and chocolate go great together. Thought this may be a fair compromise in case you want to try some?”
“That they do.” I spin and grab a second spoon from the little dispenser beside the register. “In case you want to try some.” Flashing a sassy smile, I hold up the second spoon and sashaytoward the small booth in the corner that Owen has claimed for us.
My steps halt at Owen’s expression. From the little booth in the corner, his eyes sparkle with playful accusation reminiscent of catching a child with their hand in the cookie jar. Though my hand isn’t in anyone’s cookie jar, even if the idea of Davis’s in mine prickles heat up my spine.
Eyes narrowed, I mouth,What?
You like him, he mouths back.
“Not happening,” I mutter under my breath and take the seat across from Owen.
He looks to where Davis is paying for our ice cream. “Why not?” he whispers back.
“Lars and Lord James, remember?”
“They’re not yourhim.”
“What makes you say that?” I whisper-hiss.
“Neither of them makes you look like that.” He aims his spoon at me.
I release an annoyed breath. “My focus is on the three men I accidentally wished for, not the one that I may or may not?—”
“Liiiiike?” He waggles his eyebrows.
“Should I grab us some water too?” Davis approaches and places his dish on the table.
“I’m okay. Thank you.” I smile, ignoring Owen’s assessing gaze.
“Oh no, I have to go,” Owen says, his tone robotic.
I shoot him awhat are you doinglook.
