Best Served Cold

Annoyingly expensive, too.

“Found them.” Chase appeared with two spoons and took the stool opposite me, sliding one spoon across the counter.

“Did you need a metal detector to find it?” I asked, keeping my face expressionless.

“Ha ha ha. You’re so fucking funny I can barely breathe.” He rolled his eyes and picked up the spoon. “Can I eat my ice cream without a side of snark?”

I dipped my spoon into my own glass and put the ice cream into my mouth. My glare was his answer.

Every meal should come with a side of snark. Just like life.

Life was brighter with a little snark.

Chase groaned. “This is so good. I think I missed this ice cream more than I missed you.”

I laughed so hard I choked on a particularly chunky bit of brownie I’d just spooned into my mouth. My spoon clattered to the counter as I thumped my chest and coughed it back up. I grabbed a napkin from the dispenser next to the register and spat the brownie into it.

“That was dramatic,” Chase said, lips curved in a wry smile.

“That’s okay. I’ll almost choke to death,” I rasped. “You sit there and eat your damn ice cream.”

“All right then.” His eyes glittered. “Let me guess—my fault, too?”

I got a bottle of water from the front fridge and sat back down. “You bet your dumb ass it is,” I said after taking a swig of the water. “But at least now I see where I stood in our relationship.”

“Second to your ice cream,” he replied around a mouthful of it. “What? I came second to my tongue. You were never as excited to see me as you were when I was about to lick your—”

I spat water over the floor. “The line. You’re crossing it.”

“Clit,” he finished, smiling way too smugly.

“Chase!”

“What?” He put his spoon in the glass, eyes dancing with laughter. “What do you want me to say?”

I wiped my mouth. “‘Thank you for making me ice cream, Rae,’ would be a nice start.”

“Thank you for making me ice cream, Rae.”

“Without the snark.”

“Coming from the queen of snark, that’s a little rich.”

“You know what will be rich? The hospital when you’re done paying the bill for the extraction of this spoon from your backside.” I waved the spoon at him. “How the hell did I put up with you for two years?”

He stuck his tongue out and wiggled it side to side, grinning like a fool.

I pursed my lips, trying not to laugh at him. He looked so freaking stupid. I dipped my head and pinched the bridge of my nose so he couldn’t see just how hard I was trying to not laugh at him.

His chuckle sent goosebumps over my skin, and I rubbed my hand down my face.

“I know you’re trying not to laugh,” he said through his own laughter.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

There was a screech of metal against metal, and the next thing I knew, Chase was spinning my body on the stool and dragging me up. I bit my lip as I met his eyes, and desire flashed through his gaze.

He had chocolate sauce on his cheek.

“You’ve got—” I wiggled my finger, but it was useless because he had my hands in a vise-like grip.

“What?”

“You’ve—give me my damn hand back.” I wrestled my hands from his and tapped my cheek. “Sauce. On your cheek. And you think I’m messy.”

“You are messy.” His lips twitched, and he wiped at his cheek. “Got it?”

I shook my head. “The other cheek.”

“Crap.” He rubbed his other cheek, but he still missed some. “Now?”

Again, I shook my head, but this time I laughed. “No. Damn it. It’s here.” I touched my finger to his cheek, no more than an inch from his mouth, and wiped my thumb across his face.

The stubble on his jaw brushed against the backs of my fingers, and I drew in a deep breath when I met his eyes. His full lips were slightly parted, and I couldn’t help how my gaze dropped to it.

My body’s reaction to this closeness was immediate.

Goosebumps erupted over my arms. A shiver ran down my spine, and my heartbeat picked up double-time, sending heat flushing through my body in an instant.

“Did you get it?” Chase asked, his voice low.

I swallowed. “No. It’s just—” I paused, moving my thumb closer to the corner of his mouth where the sauce started.

His skin was soft beneath my thumb. The sauce disappeared, transferring from his skin to mine, and as I slowly moved my hand from his cheek, the pad of my thumb brushed down the stubble coating his jaw.

I moved before I even knew what I was doing.

I touched my lips to his, my fingers moving so my hand cupped the curve of his perfect jaw. He didn’t move to touch me, he just leaned in, hesitant.