Starting from Scratch (Starting from 2)

However, I’d recently stopped cashing in on the perks of skipping the line and rarely paying for food in LA’s hippest bars, clubs, and eateries to concentrate on launching Zero. I still had contacts, like Coco, who I knew would pull us to the front and hook us up with more ice cream than we should consume in one sitting, but I wasn’t interested in gossiping about what Jennifer Lawrence ordered or if she’d had a Miley sighting this week. My attention was firmly on the skater boy charming the hell out of my little brother.

Ky kept up a steady dialogue with Ollie about the strangest ice cream flavors they’d ever tried while I alternately scrolled messages on my cell and scanned the shop for a vacant table. When one opened up, I tapped Oliver’s shoulder and inclined my head.

“There’s a spot. Tell me what you want and go get it,” I said in a hushed tone.

“Oh. I can’t decide. They have a weird new one with eggs and bacon. It’s probably bad though, so—”

“That table is gonna last as long as a chocolate bar in my man bag. Hurry it up,” I urged.

Ky snickered. “Why don’t you get the table? I’ll order.”

“Okay. I’ll take a single scoop of Caramel Ribbons.” I unzipped my bag and handed over my credit card.

He shook his head. “My treat.”

“But…why?”

“You’re not supposed to ask why. Just say thanks.”

I returned his lopsided smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Ky gestured toward the table next to the window overlooking San Vicente Street. “That one’s better. Get movin’, Char.”

I scowled but hurried to obey before the college-aged girls in midriffs taking selfies near the front door swooped in. I set my bag on the table and spread out as much as possible to wordlessly convey I was waiting for friends…not just hogging precious space. Then I refocused on Ky and Oliver. Okay, fine. I focused on Ky’s ass. His board shorts hugged his butt just enough to let the imagination run wild. And I had a rather prolific imagination. Not a bad thing usually, but secretly lusting after the guy I wanted out of the band wasn’t smart. Neither was letting him buy Ollie and me ice cream.

Whatever. It was a one-time thing. And it might actually be a good idea to find out more about Ky. Maybe he’d admit Zero had turned into a bigger commitment than he’d been prepared to make. If I finessed this properly, we might come to a mutual agreement without any ugly fireworks in the studio. I could be a decent negotiator…when I remembered not to say what was exactly on my mind.

“Here you go. One scoop, right?” Ky set the small container down just as Oliver wiggled into the lone seat across from me.

“We’re missing a chair,” Oliver said around his spoon. “You’ll have to sit together so Ky can see if he recognizes anything different about me.”

“I gotta sit next to Charlie?” Ky teased.

“Charlie is pretty cool,” Oliver assured him.

“Thanks, Ol.” I smiled before shoveling a huge bite of ice cream into my mouth.

“I think so too,” Ky said matter-of-factly.

Oliver paused mid bite. “Do you like guys? ’Cause if you do, you should ask him out. Charlie doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

I widened my eyes and tried to swallow what was in my mouth before I coughed and sputtered. “Jesus, Ol! What”—cough, cough—“what are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he replied innocently.

“Oh, my God. Do not—”

“Relax.” Ky fixed me with a devilish side-eyed look, then nudged my shoulder. “Charlie and I work together. It would be weird if I asked him out.”

“And he’s straight and has a girlfriend,” I added. “Leave him alone and eat your ice cream, pipsqueak.”

Ky waited for Oliver to dig into his dessert before turning sideways. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“What happened to the girl you brought to Gray and Justin’s barbeque a couple of weeks ago?” I asked.

“Lauren? We’re just friends.”

“Oh. You mean you were never…” I made a circular motion with my hand. “More than friends?”

“We were. It didn’t work out.”

“Why not?” Oliver asked.

Ky shrugged. “We didn’t have much to talk about, I guess. How’s that S’mores flavor?”

“Good. Wanna bite?” Oliver offered, pushing his ice cream across the table.

Ky leaned forward with his spoon raised and narrowed his eyes. “I think I know what’s different. You have glasses.”

And just like that, Oliver deflated before our eyes. “Yeah.”

I met Ky’s gaze and cleared my throat to start another round of “You look awesome,” but Ky beat me to it.

“I like ’em. I wear glasses too, you know.”

“You do?” Ollie asked, furrowing his brow intently like he was trying to picture Ky looking remotely geeky and just couldn’t see it.

“Yeah, I have contacts in now, but I’m blind as a bat without them. If my glasses were as cool as yours I’d wear them all the time. Let me try ’em.” Ky wiggled his fingers expectantly. When Oliver handed them over, he set the small frames on his nose. “How do I look?”