Page 48 of Ghost Of You
Laelia glances at me, her brow furrowing in confusion at the man’s odd behaviour. I flash her a reassuring smile, but as soon as she turns back, my eyes are back on him, glaring daggers.
“Can I please have a six-scoop tub?” she asks, and the guy nods eagerly, grabbing a tub and scoop like his life depends on it. He hovers over the display, waiting for her choices.
“Salted caramel, mango, Lotus Biscoff, Parma Violet, melon, and…” She trails off, her eyes scanning the array of flavours, unable to decide on the final one. She taps her finger thoughtfully against her lip, the wheels in her head turning. “Mint!” she suddenly exclaims, only to clap a hand over her mouth, realising she just shouted in a room full of people.
I can’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling out of me before I can stop it. Laelia turns and playfully smacks my arm, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
The man scoops her ice cream with a shaky hand and gives her a weak smile. His eyes flicker to me, then back to Laelia. “A-any s-sauces or toppings?” he stutters.
Laelia shoots me a puzzled look, clearly still wondering why he’s acting so strange. She shrugs it off and smiles at him—again. “Raspberry sauce and a flake, please!” Her eyes light up at the thought of her creamy treat.
The man quickly adds the toppings and places the tub on the counter. Laelia grabs it with an excited gleam in her eye.
Then it’s my turn. The man hesitates, visibly swallowing. “W-what can I get you?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
I love how nervous I make him. I glance down at his name tag. “Tyler,” I say, savouring the way he flinches at the sound of his own name. “I’ll have a six-scoop tub too…please.” He nods stiffly, clearly wishing he was anywhere else right now. “I’ll take chocolate, salted caramel, raspberry ripple, mint chocolate chip, strawberry, and vanilla.”
As he scoops, Laelia nudges me, drawing my attention. “You’re so vanilla,” she giggles, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
My smirk widens. “Oh, baby. We both know I’m far fromvanilla.”
Her cheeks flush a lovely shade of pink as she bites down on her spoon, her eyes darkening at the innuendo.
She pulls the spoon from her mouth with a soft pop and grins at me. “Oh, I know.” She winks, and a low chuckle escapes my throat.
I lean in close, my lips brushing against her ear as I whisper, “Good girl.”
Her breath catches, her lips parting slightly as my words send a shiver down her spine. I can practically see the heat rising in her eyes—those two words always do the trick.
Tyler, now thoroughly flustered, is staring at us with wide eyes. When he realises I’ve caught him, he quickly averts his gaze, his face turning as red as the raspberry sauce.
“What toppings would you like?” he asks, his voice barely holding steady.
“Chocolate sauce and sprinkles, please.”
He nods and quickly adds the toppings, then places my tub on the counter before retreating to the till. His hands fumble with the buttons as he rings up our order.
“That’ll be fifteen pounds, please,” he mumbles, avoiding eye contact.
I pull out my wallet and tap my card against the machine, the beep and the “approved” message bringing a small smile to my lips. Laelia murmurs a thank you as Tyler gives her a weak smile before fleeing to the next customer.
As we leave the shop, the bell above the door rings again, and I let Laelia step out first, following close behind her. She finds a nearby bench and takes a seat, with me settling in beside her. The world around us bustles with life—people shopping, chatting, sipping coffee, and soaking up the sunshine. Kids run around, their laughter filling the air as they play and explore, hand in hand with their parents.
I glance over at Laelia, catching her mid-bite, her eyes meeting mine as she devours her ice cream. She scoops up a spoonful and holds it out to me.
“Want to try?” she asks, her voice playful.
I hesitate, eyeing the mango-flavoured ice cream on her spoon. “Sure,” I say, leaning in and opening my mouth, but instead of feeding me, she mischievously swipes the spoon across my nose, leaving a trail of ice cream on my face. She giggles, and I chuckle, wiping the mess away.
“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” I tease, cocking an eyebrow at her.
She shakes her head, trying to stifle her laughter. “Not playing any game,” she insists, though her smile says otherwise.
“Oh yeah?” I smirk, not missing a beat. Before she can react, I flick a spoonful of my own ice cream at her, watching as it splatters across her face and top.
Her gasp is priceless. “You didn’t!” she exclaims, her eyes wide with shock.
I laugh, my smirk growing wider. “I would chuck more ice cream at you, but unlike some people, my ice cream is too precious and valuable to waste.”