Page 29 of The Fast Lane
“Bet they have a pool. That sounds nice, doesn’t it?”
I sucked in a breath. “That sounds so nice.”
“And ice water.”
“And… and… ice cream?”
Theo slung an arm around my shoulders. “We’ll find you ice cream.”
“With whipped cream?”
“And a cherry.”
“Yes.” I groaned and slowed down, my eyes sliding shut as I imagined the taste of the cool sweetness on my tongue. “Rainbow, no, chocolate sprinkles. And cookie dough crumbles. Maybe some nuts.”
I opened my eyes and was startled to discover we’d stopped moving. Theo’s arm rested heavy on my shoulders, but his gaze felt heavier. His eyes drifted to my mouth. He frowned, two ticks appearing between his eyebrows. My feet rooted right there, fascinated by whatever was going on behind his eyes. I wanted to stand there and stare at him forever.
“In a cone or a cup?” His voice was low and gruff. My stomach swooped.
I licked my bottom lip, the one he was still staring at. “A cup.”
He made a funny little half-groan and swayed closer, just a touch, but I noticed. “One scoop or two?”
“Three. Definitely three.” Was that my voice? I sounded like I’d just run three miles. Uphill.
“Chocolate or caramel syrup?” His eyes moved to mine, bright and piercing.
“Oh, chocolate,” I breathed. “Lots of chocolate syrup.”
“I love chocolate.” He inched closer. I didn’t think my skin could get any hotter than it already was given the sun beating down on us, but I was wrong.
A vulture swooped and landed not ten feet from us, breaking whatever strange ice cream-flavored coma had settled over the two of us. Stupid bird.
Startled, I squawked. Theo dropped his arm. I clapped my hands at it; it didn’t move. The dang thing stood there, drilling into us with beady dark eyes.
“It’s huge.” I shuffled away. “It’s got to be at least two feet tall. Do something, Theo. I-I think it’s trying to figure out what part of me to eat first.”
“He’s not going to eat you. You aren’t dead.”
I gulped. “Yet.”
“Let’s go get you that ice cream.” With a soft laugh, Theo patted me on the back and started moving down the road, his limp far more pronounced than normal.
“Your ankle doing okay?” I called, still staring at the vulture that was staring at me.
“It’s fine.” He waved a hand of dismissal in the air.
“You’re lying again.”
“Hurry up. I want to find this place before we really are vulture food.”
The bird took a small hop toward me. That was enough to get my feet unstuck fast.
TWELVE
Note to self:
Always carry a change of clothes.