Page 45 of Give My Everything
I shrug. “There’s nothing wrong with orange.”
She laughs, the sound filling the space with something much lighter than the mood was a few moments ago.
It reminds me that it’s not so bad having Remmy around. I might even say it’s nice. For the most part.
Sometimes, I still wonder if I’m making a mistake, but generally, she’s really…fun. And funny, like the comment about my favorite color and ice cream.
Speaking of which… “Wanna get some ice cream?”
She giggles. “Actually, yeah, that sounds awesome.”
I plop down next to Remmy twenty minutes later, the two of us seated on a bench outside Frosé, a new dessert and wine bar that opened up on the promenade at the pier, only five or six businesses down from my own.
Part of me wishes we’d just come here and enjoyed ourselves instead of going to The Royal. It’s a gorgeous restaurant, but it is definitely a see-and-be-seen kind of establishment.
This place is so much more casual, much more conducive to a first date.
“What flavor did you get?” she asks, mixing her chocolate ice cream with her triple helping of Oreo crumble topping.
I take a bite of the pink goodness I’ve loved since I was a kid, lick my lips, and then respond. “Watermelon.”
Her mouth stops moving, though it’s still full of a way-too-big bite of ice cream.
“Shut up,” she says, looking at me like I’m insane.
Laughing, I take another bite and shake my head before giving her my real answer. “It’s strawberry.”
She giggles, trying to finish off her mouthful and failing spectacularly.
“How did you get that much chocolate on your face?” I ask, unable to hide my grin. “You’ve takenonebite.”
She keeps laughing, shaking her head and trying to wipe off the excess with her hand but only managing to smear it more.
“Did I get it all?” she asks, grinning at me, the look almost childlike in its ridiculousness.
“Not even close.”
I set my cup down and tilt Remmy’s face up so I can wipe the brown marks away. There are only a few, but she won’t be able to get them without a mirror.
Once I get it all, I finally look into her eyes—those caramel beauties that have likely hypnotized stronger men than me—and for a moment, I’m lost in them.
They’re so bright right now, so full of hope and happiness. I would never claim to be someone who knows Remmy well, but Icansay it’s rare for me to see her like this, especially up close. Maybe too close.
Because for a brief moment, my eyes drop to her lips. They’re plump and stained with a wine color that makes them look perfect for kissing.
When I manage to look away, back up to her eyes, I see they have grown hooded, that they’re zeroed in on my own mouth, her mind likely contemplating the same things I am.
Wondering if kissing now is a good idea.
Remembering the kissing before, both at the country club and on my couch through the dampness of her tears.
“Thanks for taking me out,” she says, turning her head away and extricating her chin from my hand. “Even if it wasn’t exactly what I thought it would be. I still enjoyed it.”
I clear my throat, reaching for my momentarily forgotten cup of strawberry ice cream.
“We should plan the next date,” I finally reply, twirling my spoon into the pink dairy that is slowly starting to resemble soup. “It feels like we keep trying to schedule things and it never works out.”
Like on Monday when she could barely stop crying and then kissed me with something so sweet I had to shut her down, or tonight when I got distracted by my brother.
