Page 48 of Can't Help Falling

“I wasn’t sure who wanted some so...”

Kylie seemed embarrassed by her gesture to the group but Tyler seemed utterly delighted. He jumped up and helped her with the ice creams.

“I got sprinkles on mine. And we chose one more with sprinkles in case someone wanted it,” Matty said authoritatively.

“Me!” Mary raised her hand in the air. Both hands on the dish, both eyes on the ice cream, Matty carefully walked it across the room to her.

“Looks like we’ve got a chocolate chocolate chip right here?” Tyler said, inspecting the one in his hand.

“Mine. Dibs. Called it.” Fin put her finger in the air. He smirked at her as he walked it over.

“Should have guessed you’d have a thing for dark chocolate.” He passed the dish to her and the same thing that happened when she’d handed him the beer earlier happened again. The heat between their fingers was unexpectedly overwhelming. Fin did her best not to touch people, because it always ended up making her feel funny. But with this moment, the chocolate passing from one hand to the other, the cold dish, the heat of the back of his hand against the pads of her fingers, it was all inexplicably delicious.

She frowned as she took the ice cream and leaned back. Delicious and Tyler Leshuski should never be in the same thought.

“Who wants pistachio?” Kylie asked. She frowned when there were no takers. “Come on. There’s always some adult at some ice-cream shop who’s ordering pistachio. I know one of you wants it.”

Sebastian laughed. “Over here, kid.”

She walked it over, and Fin began to see what a good idea this whole getting-her-a-job thing was. Kylie was a shy, insular person for the most part, but Fin had seen just how fast her energy had bloomed open when the idea of having a job had been tossed around. And even now, just having been the one to get the ice cream and to be the one passing it out, Kylie was actually standing in front of a room of adults and making jokes about pistachio ice cream.

It was clear to Fin that Kylie had been given too much responsibility at too young of an age. But that didn’t mean that she didn’t want any responsibility at all. Maybe giving her tasks was the way to her heart.

Fin instantly thought of a hundred different things she could have Kylie help her with at her house. Cleansing crystals for her jewelry, drying herbs, the works. She frowned and took a lick from her spoon. But all of that would require having Tyler trust her enough to invite Kylie over to her house.

It was with Tyler on her mind that Fin finished her ice cream and got up to start straightening the kitchen. Via was one of those cooks who cleaned up as she went, so there was never much to do after one of her dinner parties, but Fin liked to be the one to do it anyway.

She filled the sink with soapy water and was surprised when a pile of dishes appeared next to her. Tyler motioned for her to move aside and he grabbed the trash and the small compost bin from under the sink. He started scraping the plates into the bins.

Fin said nothing.

Tyler seemed lost in thought, at ease, and Fin felt strange, being the one who was a little flustered. There was a buzzing cloud of energy surrounding him, and Fin could neither get hold of it nor avoid it as he moved around the kitchen, putting away leftovers and wiping down the counters. She scrubbed up the plates and the few pots that were left and then drained the sink. She turned her back to the counter and watched him while, seemingly without thinking too much on it, he picked up the dishes from the rack and started drying them. She took them one by one from his hands and put them away.

His energy was like a forcefield that both kept her close and pushed her away. She couldn’t read his mood, nor did she want to, but she also found that she didn’t want to leave the kitchen.

She frowned and watched him as he refolded the dish towels, washed his hands.

“What?” he asked as he turned around.

She read the defensiveness on his face and purposefully dropped her crossed arms. She was sure that she was accidentally looking critical. She decided to lighten the mood.

“No comments on the fact that I did all the dishes?”

He looked confused. “You want a letter grade?”

“No. But you were the one who said I wasn’t exactly the housework type.”

A sparkle came into his eye. “Ah, of course. Where are your servants tonight? Gave them the night off from feeding you grapes and fanning you with palm leaves?”

“Even Cleopatra gives her servants a night to wash their golden underwear.”

He laughed again, but there was fatigue in it. She didn’t like that look on his face. He was supposed to look confident, amused, interested, observant. He wasn’t supposed to look utterly bemused by the state of his life.

Fin shoved her hand into her pocket and pulled out her familiar crystals, the way she had for Kylie. “Pick one,” she demanded.

He dropped his navy eyes to her hand and then swooped them back up to her face. “For what?”

“I’m going to make you something.”

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