Page 4 of A Very Oceanport Christmas
The ice cream parlor wasn't very busy when we entered. Only three of about twelve tables had patrons sitting at them. David motioned for me to take a seat at the table farthest to the back. My friends and I used to sit there every chance we got because it had a bench with comfy cushions and it felt a little separated from the rest of the store.
"Can't believe this table's free," I said as I lowered myself onto the bench. David took one of the white chairs on the other side of the table, which was a little weird. A year ago, he would have shoved me to make room on the bench.
"We’re never too busy in winter," he said, eyes sweeping the store. "Dad'll probably be fine without my help for a couple minutes." There was something sad about his smile, and I found myself hoping that their business wasn't struggling too badly. Things had been rough for David and his dad ever since his mother was diagnosed with cancer. I found myself wishing that I’d been with him the day she’d passed away, but I hadn’t. I’d been at college.
I suppressed the urge to ask how he and his dad were doing these days. David probably wanted to talk about his dead mother about as much as I wanted to talk about my pregnancy. I watched him take his coat off and hang it over the back of his chair. He was wearing his blue work polo shirt underneath. It featured a dorky print of a smiling ice cream cone and the name of the parlor:Dream Cream. For some reason, David was the only one who could wear that uniform without looking utterly stupid--which I would never admit to him.
"I see your cherry is still well-protected," I said, pointing at his shirt before I could think twice about it. Teasing him about his work uniform was my duty as best friend. Had been my duty? Whatever. The words still came easily, so I rolled with them.
David scoffed. "Just becauseyoucouldn't get laid in these clothes... I get hit on around here all the time."
"Sure you do, but are any of those omegas older than twelve?"
"Some are older than me."
"It doesn't count if it's Mrs. Rosewood."
"She's not an omega anyway. But yeah, she comes in occasionally." David visibly shuddered. "I can't believe some of the things that come out of that old lady's mouth, and in front of her great-grandkids too!"
I laughed. "That's just how she is." I doubted anyone really listened to the things she said anymore. Underneath all her inappropriate remarks, she was a sweet old lady who meant well. One year, she'd made me a scarf, and I still wore it sometimes. "So there's a lot of people hitting on you, huh?" I asked, changing the topic. To be honest, I wasn't sure how to feel about all these people supposedly hitting on David. It was an uncomfortable thought. Sure, he'd always been popular, but he'd never actually dated anyone. At least not while I was still in Oceanport, but who knew how things might have changed while I was away at college?
"All the time," David repeated with a grin on his face. He looked handsome when he smiled, even though I could tell he hadn't shaved in at least three days. The stubble only added to his charm, though. Gave him a kind of rugged vibe.
And then there was his scent. David had always smelled good. Like comfort and security. Or maybe that was subjective? I wasn't sure. All I knew was that to me, he smelled like safety, and there was something amazingly attractive about that.
Yeah, I wasn’t surprised that people were hitting on him.
That didn’t mean that I had to like it, though.
"So are you still single?" I made myself ask, even as I mentally chided myself for the question. Way to be obvious.
It's okay, I told myself.You're only showing an interest in his life.
"I am," David said, and I blew out a breath of relief that I hoped he wouldn't be able to interpret as such.
It was totally selfish of me that I didn't want to see him with someone else, but I couldn't help it, even when I hated myself a little bit. Shouldn't I want my friend to be happy? He sure as hell wasn't going to be if he had to stay single all his life just so I wouldn't have to see him make out with anyone. So I did the only logical thing I could do and pushed myself to be more supportive. Well, Itried, anyway. "I'm sure you'll find someone eventually. Doesn't Mrs. Rosewood have a slightly younger sister?"
David rolled his eyes. "You're impossible."
He was probably right about that. I shrugged. "How about that hot chocolate?" I asked, if only to change the topic.
"Coming right up." David rose from his chair and I watched him go. My eyes lingered on his backside for a second before I could force my gaze up. Damn, but that was a fine ass. David's silly work clothes did nothing to change that.
How often was he really getting hit on? I bit my lower lip, ponderingthatquestion.
I wondered if it was pregnancy hormones making me hornier than usual. Normally, I was pretty good at keeping myself in check around David. I’d had years of practice, after all.
David returned with the hot chocolate after a minute or two, setting the large mug down in front of me. "Hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon," he said. "Is this what you wanted?"
"It's exactly what I wanted," I lied, drawing the mug toward me and warming my hands on it. What Ireallywanted was to get a taste of David, but no way was I going to say that. "You're not gonna have any hot chocolate yourself?" I asked instead.
"Nah. I'm good. Are you hungry too? We have waffles."
So that was what that smell was. I'd been so focused on David's that I almost hadn't noticed it, but now that he'd pointed it out, my mouth watered.
"Waffles with hot cherries and vanilla ice cream," David offered.
"I'm not going to say no to that."
