Page 148 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

I take off running and push through into the stairwell at the end of the hall. Running down the stairs, I use the railing to help swing my body around the corners even faster.

“Don’t get up,” I yell to Gil as I run through the lobby. Rushing out the door, I come to a stop when I see her. “I’m here. I’m here,” I say through harsh breaths. Bending over, I rest my palms on my knees, trying to catch my breath. Sweaty with my hair hanging over my eyes, I look up. “Did I make it?”

She’s grinning ear to ear. “You’re right on time.”

14

Andrew

“There’sno shame in my ice cream game.”

That was the last thing Juni said before she left me standing with a melting rocky road cone in one hand and her sweater in the other while she perused the counter for the next fifteen minutes.

After spending ample time debating each of the nineteen flavors, she looks back at me with her bottom lip tucked under her teeth, and then asks, “Maybe I’m in the mood for sorbet?”

“Ice cream,” I reply, getting her back on track with this mission.

With her eyes locked on the prize, she proudly walks up to the counter, and orders, “Raspberry chocolate chip, please,” like she won’t ever get another opportunity to eat ice cream again.

I didn’t realize this was going to be an event. Had I known, I would have mentally prepared better. But I have a feeling that I’ll never be fully prepared for an adventure that involves Juni.

She insisted on paying. I argued but realized I wouldn’t win that battle. I’m taking my last bite when she walks up. With her head tilted to the side, she drags her tongue along the deep pink cream. I lower my arm that has her sweater draped over it and clear my throat. “We should get out of here. It’s getting crowded, especially for being almost midnight on a weekday.”

“You’re here,” she says, as if that proves her point.

Blocked from opening the door properly, I stand on the opposite side and use my height to hold it open high above her head. She happily ducks under to exit, reminding me how small she is. She can’t be more than five-two or three. “Late night, sweet treat.”

I could call her the same.I don’t.But I could.

We move out of the entrance and start strolling back toward my building. I say, “I haven’t had ice cream in a long time.”

“It’s good, right?” Eager anticipation colors her expression, as does a chocolate chip above the right corner of her mouth. I subtly lick the corner of mine. Without acknowledging the act, her tongue dips out and sweeps the chocolate away.

“It was. I’m glad I came out.”

Joy surges through her spine, causing a little wiggle, and she looks down at her feet. When I’m granted the beauty of her hazel eyes again, she whispers, “Me too.”

I’m quick to pull her close when a boisterous group of teenagers hoards most of the sidewalk, leaving little room for others. She doesn’t appear to mind my arm wrapped around her waist as though it belongs there.

I don’t either.

Removing it is the right thing to do among friends. So, I do.

She asks, “How long has it been since you went out for ice cream?”

It’s odd how that question hits sideways in my gut. Probably because it brings some truth to the surface. “I don’t remember.”

Although she had just taken a bite, which should bring pleasure, sympathy wriggles into her eyes. “I’m glad we’re remedying that.”

The moment passes, but I won’t complain that the focus is off me. I prefer to be the one behind the scenes instead of in the spotlight. We continue walking. Her eyes are momentarily hidden behind closed lids as she savors the sweet flavor. When she reopens them, she catches me staring. Touching the side of her lips, she asks, “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“If it’s nothing, then why are you looking at me like that?”

Chuckling, I reply, “I like how much you’re enjoying that ice cream.”

“See?” she says, confident the universe has her back. I have a strong suspicion it does. “We’ve gottentwolikes out of you. Rocky road and me.” She giggles. “Well, not me specifically, but . . .” She bumps into my side and taps her head to my arm in a nudge. “You’re having fun, and that’s what this is all about.”

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