Page 72 of Blame It on the Bikini
"Really?" she asked doubtfully.
"Kaia," Ben called out as he moved quickly back to them. "Come with me. I want you to meet a friend of mine."
Kaia groaned dramatically. "If this is another one of your cop buddies who thinks talking about horsepower counts as flirting?—"
"Hey, at least my friends aren't stalkers and don't have ex-girlfriends showing up at their doors in tears," Ben shot back. "Your track record isn't exactly stellar, sis."
"Okay, fine, I haven't been lucky in the dating department," Kaia admitted. "But that doesn't mean I need you playing matchmaker."
"I'm not setting you up, just asking you to say hello. There he is." Ben tipped his head toward the tall, dark-haired man coming around the back of a '67 Corvette.
Lexie watched Kaia's expression transform from boredom to interest.
"Seriously?" Kaia asked. "Maybe I underestimated you, Ben."
"You always do," he said.
Lexie smiled to herself as Ben walked Kaia over to his friend.
Since the last thing she wanted was for Grayson to see her standing alone, watching him like some lovesick teenager, she decided to get some ice cream.
The ice cream truck had a decent line, mostly families with children debating between rocket pops and ice cream sandwiches. While she was waiting, she checked her phone for any emails, but thankfully, all was quiet on the work front. As someone slid into line behind her, she lifted her head, her heart jumping into her throat when she realized it was Grayson.
"Good day for ice cream," he said.
"It is. I'm surprised you didn’t wait for me to leave, though. You've been avoiding me as much as possible."
"Didn't we just chat yesterday when you showed me your photos?"
"Because you were with Frank, and I had to walk by you to go into the complex," she said dryly. "Otherwise, you've been avoiding me."
"It's been a busy week."
"Don't." She held up a hand. "It wasn't just work, and you know it. You backed off after our night in Joshua Tree. I know you had business to deal with, but I think you used that as an excuse not to see me."
For a moment, she thought he might deny it. Then he tipped his head in agreement. "You're right. Part of it was work, but part of it..." He ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know how to juggle everything and everyone."
"This isn't really about juggling, is it?" She stepped forward as the line moved. "It's not about finding time," she added. "It's about whether you want to make time. And you have to decide if that's what you want to do—or not."
He didn’t answer, and the line shifted again, placing her at the order window. "I'll take a mint chip," she said.
"Rocky road for me." Grayson put a hand on her shoulder as he slid a ten-dollar bill across the counter.
She didn't bother to complain since he could certainly afford to buy her ice cream. A moment later, with their cones in hand, they stepped away from the truck.
"So, rocky road," she said as he licked his cone. "Seems like an appropriate choice."
He grinned. "I didn't realize that until I said it, but it was the perfect choice." He paused. "I heard what you said, Lexie. And you're not completely wrong. But it's not as simple as wanting to make time."
"I think it is."
He was quiet for a moment, studying her face, as they both ate their ice cream. Then, he said, "Let me ask you something. What do you want from this? From us?"
The question caught her off guard with its directness. "I don't know," she admitted.
"So you want me to know when you don't know yourself?" he challenged.
She felt heat rise in her cheeks. "That's not fair. I haven't been avoiding you. I wanted to spend time with you to see where things could go. But clearly you did not. Which is why we don't even need to have this conversation. You know what you want; you just don't want to say it. But I'd rather have someone tell me the truth than ghost me."
