Page 171 of King of Pain
The park is bustling with families, couples, and their fur babies. Little G barrels into the gated area, making fast friends with a border collie and a corgi wearing a bowtie on his collar. Chance laughs at Little G’s enthusiasm, but there’s a tension in his posture. He keeps shifting his weight, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, rubbing at the outside of this thighs like something’s crawling under his skin.
We play with Little G and his new friends for an hour. When he looks spent, I leash him again and we make our way out of the park.
When we’re back on the street, I give Chance’s ass a playful smack.
“Gah!” he jumps, startled, and winces.
I freeze. “You good?”
“Yep,” he says quickly, straightening up. “Never better.”
Weird.
Ignoring whatever that was, we start the walk home.
A block later we pass a gelato shop I’ve loved since it opened. I stop, smiling. “Oh, I love this place.” I hand him Guinness’s leash. “Stay here with him. I’ll be right back.”
“We’ll be right here,”
Inside, I greet the girl behind the counter, order a pint of pistachio and a pint of stracciatella and a cup of water for Little G. I think I’ll bring one of his collapsible water bowls to the condo, so we have it here.
It’s a thought that should give me pause, but somehow feels natural. Right.
I exit the shop and hand Chance his pint.
“Pistachio for me,” I say. “Stracciatella for you.”
“Scratch-a-what?” he laughs.
“It’s the Italian version of chocolate chip ice cream, but lighter.”
He shakes his head. I smile and hook my finger through his belt loop.
“Come on.” I drag him to a bench in front of the shop, and we sit close enough that our knees touch.Holding Little G’s water so he can lap it up, I lean to the side, pressing close to Chance.
We trade cups halfway through, sampling each other’s flavors. His eyes dart to mine and then away, fidgeting again.
After the third shift in his seat, I lower my cup. “Alright, what’s going on? Are you okay?”
He turns bright red. “Uh, yeah. I’m great. Everything’s great.”
I narrow my eyes at him, studying him. He laughs nervously and changes the subject.
“Let’s go home and watch movies. Unless you need to be somewhere?”
Home.
Yeah, I like that.
I nod. “I’m exactly where I need to be.”
He stands, offers his hand.
“Come on,” he says.
It’s been a couple hours since we got back from the park. The first movie just ended, the sun dipping low behind the skyline outside Chance’s massive windows, casting the condo in a golden haze. Little G is at our feet, curled under the bottom of the blanket we’re sharing.
I stretch, looking over at Chance. “Should I start dinner?”
