“Laken Cavanaugh.”
Shit.
“Don’t worry, Laken,” he says, giving me a wink. “It’s just chocolate ice cream. I don’t pull out the chloroform and gags until the second date.”
“Very cute. This is not a date; it’s a peace offering,” I assure him, taking a few steps toward the bench where I’d thrown everything to run after Preston. “And besides, I’m a vanilla girl.”
“Suit yourself.” Collecting Sophie, he high-fives an overly-excited Preston and turns a glance at me over his shoulder. “Oh, and about the chocolate? Never knock something until you’ve actually put it in your mouth and tasted it.”
His words reignite the flush from earlier and I feel my cheeks heat on impact. Images of what he’d look like underneath those tight jeans and t-shirt instantly dries my mouth and then makes it water. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I grab Preston’s hand and speed walk to catch up with him.
Slap my face on a milk carton…I’m in.
