Page 25 of Fragile

His cheeks deepen in color too. “My mom raised me right.”

“She sure did.”

There’s a beat when I think he might lean over the table, try to take my hand, or be bold and kiss me. I feel like I’m suspended in the air, fighting with the idea that I should want that, but also scared that I’m leading him on in some way. How can I give myheart to someone else when it belongs to another?Chill, Quinn, it’s a first date.

Clearing my throat, I smile and pick up my jacket draped around my chair. “Shall we go get ice cream? My treat.”

“I’d like that.”

Good. Okay, great. It gives me more time to psych myself up to kiss him.

***

The walk isn’t far from Alex’s car. The gentle lapping of the nearby lakes is a distant sound as we wait in line at Scoop Dawg, the ice cream parlor in town. After a few minutes of silence, I notice Alex shuffling next to me. Glancing at him, his blond hair glistens in the overhead lights as his arm flexes behind his neck where he rubs the same spot. “You okay?” I ask.

“Yeah, yeah.” He swallows hard and drops his hand. “Actually, I was wondering if I could or should hold your hand. But then I didn’t know how to grab you without making it weird and startling you. Not that I’d grab you, but uh… Well, then I worried my hands are sweaty and maybe you don’t want to hold my hand. What am I even saying?” he trails off, looking to the sky and closing his eyes. “I’m sorry, that was the least cool I’ve ever been.”

I chuckle because it seems I may have found the male version of myself. Rambler, overthinker, nice guy. Maybe that’s why I’m not feeling much for him? We’re too similar? “You and I are more alike than I realized,” I admit.

“Is that good or bad?”

“I don’t know yet.” And that’s the truth. Alex is sweet and kind, and I’m having a good time with him. I’m just not herding a whole kaleidoscope of butterflies in my belly either. But maybethat could come with time. The only person who ever made me feel like that is Miles.

I keep my gaze on Alex, and he keeps his on me. Just as I feel the brush of his fingers against mine, the server yells, “Next!” jolting us apart and breaking the moment.

Stepping up to the brightly lit counter, my mouth waters at the creamy selection before me.

“I’ll take one scoop of double chocolate brownie with salted caramel sauce on a waffle cone, please.” It’s my go-to from this place because it’s insanely good. Not for my sugar levels, but great for me. Alex orders the same, and I wonder if he normally would have ordered something different. You know, like one of those guys who orders whatever the girl gets so she likes him? Although, I don’t think he would, based on his opinions of my pizza toppings.

“I guess you can be forgiven for your pizza choices because your dessert one is pretty good.”

“Thanks,” I say, licking the cool dessert that makes my tongue freeze. “Good to know I’m redeemable.” I laugh softly. When I swallow, I realize Alex is watching me and not in the kind of way that tells me he’s wondering what my ice cream tastes like. Probably because we have the same, but still. His eyes are like two hot pools of lust… It could be that he just really likes ice cream. But when he swallows and licks his lips, staring directly at mine, I still feel nothing.

Am I broken? I think I’m broken.

My phone buzzes in my bag consistently, but I ignore it. When it rings again, I know I can’t ignore it this time.

“I’m sorry. I should check this.” I wince, breaking my gaze from Alex, swiping to open my phone, just as another call comes through. I end up answering it. “Miles?”

The line is quiet, save for the heavy breathing on the other end, and immediately I home in on everything I think I can hear, plugging my other ear. “Miles? What’s going on?”

He sighs, long and hard. “Quinn.”

Quinn, not Queenie.He calls me Quinn; it’s just not unusual for him to use it over the nickname he gave me. But the way he pleads my name tonight has my heckles rising.

“What’s going on?” A desperate need to help hits me like a freight train and my feet are twitching to run to him. To fix whatever he means without even knowing what he’s talking about.

“It’s not enough,” he mumbles. “Never enough,” and then there’s a rustling sound, almost like he dropped the phone. “Fuck,” he shouts, sounding farther away.

“Miles? Are you there?” My voice raises.

More fumbling, followed by a sigh. “I’m here, where are you?”

“I’m…out.” I glance at Alex, who is looking over the lakes and pretending not to listen.

“On a date?” he slurs, and I decide I really don’t like this. He’s drunk and alone and where the hell are all our friends?

“It doesn’t matter. Where are you right now?”

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