Page 9 of Those Summer Nights (Sweet Cravings 2)

"I was just doing my job." He smiled at me. He had definitely just gotten off of work and was walking back to wherever he lived. But I had never seen him walk past the ice cream shop before. Maybe he was here to get some ice cream. His eyes were still hidden behind his aviators. I wished I could see what color they were. I was being ridiculous. He probably had a girlfriend.

"So this is where you work when you're not at the beach?" he asked.

"Yes, this is my glamorous summer job."

"Do you work weekends too? This place is always packed on the weekend. You must make insane tips."

"No, thank God. Just Monday, Wednesday, and Friday during the day. I do not want to deal with that many people."

He laughed. "Yeah, summer is supposed to be relaxing."

I found myself leaning forward, hoping to figure out what he smelled like so I could appease Kristen. That was definitely the only reason. But I couldn’t get close enough without sprawling myself all over the counter. "I know. My bosses can't believe I don't want those hours, but I can't even imagine being here at night, let alone on the weekend."

"I couldn't agree more. That's why I chose not to work the weekend shifts."

"Yeah, I know. I mean, I didn't know that for sure. I just noticed that you weren't there on the weekends. Not like I always notice you or anything. I just meant in a normal spectator of the beach way. Like, I'm pretty sure every person that frequents the beach recognizes their normal lifeguard. That's a thing." Oh my God, stop talking!

"Sure. In a beach spectator way. Of course." He was smiling at me.

Kill me now. "So, did you want some ice cream or are you just stalking me?"

"Stalking you? If anything you're stalking me. You visit me at my place of work all the time. And you always sit right next to me like a really obvious, bad stalker." He raised his eyebrow at me.

Shit. "I'm not stalking you...I..."

"I know." He laughed again and leaned forward a little more. "So I have to ask, what is better than sex?"

"What?" My face was probably redder than it had ever been. All the euphemisms for sex Kristen mentioned last night started to roll around in my head. Especially that Thanksgiving turkey one, until all I could think to say was something about a Thanksgiving feast. Instead I bit the inside of my lip so I wouldn’t accidentally start talking about anal.

He pointed to the wall that listed all the flavors. "The ice cream flavor. Better Than Sex." He flashed me another smile.

"Right, of course. I knew what you meant. Obviously. You're just here to get some." No! "I didn't mean that in a sexual way. I just meant get some ice cream. Not some of me." What? "Let me just go get you a sample." Damn it, why does this place have to have such ridiculous names for their ice cream flavors? I turned around and went to get him a sample. I took a deep breath as I filled up the little cup. He made me so nervous that I was acting even more awkward than I usually did. I went back to the counter and handed him the sample cup. He was tall and muscular, and he looked silly with the small cup and spoon. It helped calm my nerves.

"So have you sampled all these flavors?"

"It was part of orientation. That was probably the best part of getting this job." And the fact that my bosses were the nicest people ever.

He ate the small amount of ice cream I had given him. "You know, it's good, but it's definitely not better than sex."

No, it's not. If I could see his eyes I probably would have melted into the floor. I was suddenly grateful that he was still wearing his aviators.

He put the sample cup on the counter and scratched the back of his neck. "So, which kind is your favorite?"

"Hmm...probably the Pink Dream. It sounds super ridiculous, but it's raspberry with tons of dark chocolate chips in it and it's amazing. I guess no name is as ridiculous as Better Than Sex, though."

"I'll have one scoop of the super girly Pink Dream, then. On a sugar cone."

"Okay. I'll be right back." Of course I'll be right back. I shook my head. It wasn't like I was going to scoop his ice cream and flee with it. I was weird, but I wasn’t an ice cream shoplifter. At least not yet, because I kind of did want to sprint out of here. I grabbed a sugar cone and put a heaping scoop of Pink Dream in it.

"Here you go." I handed it to him. I watched as he pulled a five dollar bill out of his wallet. "It's okay. It's on me. I owe you after yesterday."

"You don't really. I was just doing my job."

"I insist."

He smiled at me. "I'll have to save you more often then."

"Yes please." What the hell? Yes please?

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