18. Rosie

Chapter 18

Rosie

I’d begged the team to go to the ice cream parlor instead of Icy Asps Restaurant, like we usually did. Mostly because I was getting sick of being there so much with my work schedule.

Besides, the ice cream parlor was only open in the summertime, so we needed to get our fill of it while we could.

I got a homemade waffle cone with two scoops—one cookies and cream and one mint-chocolate chip.

“So you like to eat toothpaste.” Dylan had opted to get one small scoop of strawberry sorbet in a cup, like a sad grandpa who’d forgotten how to have fun.

“And you hate happiness.” I motioned toward his cup. “We all have our quirks.”

“Sorbet is delicious,” he said defensively. “Have you tried it here? It’s fresh fruit puree.”

“Why in the world would I try it when I could have full cream and sugar with huge chunks of chocolate?”

He held out his spoon to me, a small bite of sorbet on the end. “Come on. One bite. You owe me.”

I made a face. “For what?”

“For winning the scrimmage for you.”

“You didn’t—”

The spoon touched my bottom lip, stealing all my words and thoughts from me. It was cold, but the look he gave me was heated. I opened my mouth on instinct and ate the sorbet.

The way Dylan watched me sent shivers all the way to my toes. “Good?”

I nodded, words impossible to find. I blinked away the weirdness. I was not going to get all mushy brained over fruit puree .

“Needs dark chocolate chunks.”

“That would ruin it.”

“And some heavy cream. Sugar. Maybe a little vanilla.”

“So you wish it was chocolate covered strawberry ice cream.”

“Yes. Oh my gosh, that sounds so good.”

He laughed, and my stomach did that squeeze thing it did earlier when I caught him watching me after I slid into home to win our scrimmage. I’d quickly looked away to see if Max had seen—he had, but his expression had been nowhere near as happy as Dylan’s. Which made sense, since Max wasn’t on my team. Technically, neither was Dylan, but he had been today. And I’d never seen him smile so much.

The team took up every table in the parlor, with some people standing in clusters around the chairs. Dylan had ordered his sorbet, then beelined it to the back of the shop, near the ancient arcade games. I had joined him after I hugged and high-fived everyone on the team.

“You can smile,” I said.

I regretted saying something when his smile dimmed. “Of course I do.”

“Haven’t seen it very much.”

“Hasn’t been much to smile about lately.”

I bumped my shoulder against his arm in comfort. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to not only lose your best friend, but to see it happen and not be able to stop it.

After Shiloh died, the town had been quiet for days. Even those of us who didn’t know him that well knew his parents and Hudson, and we’d heard about the money and time he donated to the town’s teams. He’d funded so many scholarships for club sports that half the town could credit him for being able to play the sport they loved.

Dylan coming home to Winterhaven, though? It was like the sun coming out. He couldn’t see it, but I did. I’d been worried about Dylan shaking up the town, but him being here was a good shake up. Like cream turning into ice cream kind of good.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I said.

He scoffed. “Well, at least there’s one.”

“What in the world are you talking about?”

Before he could answer, Charlie approached to give us a hug. “Me and Greg are going to catch some dinner.

“Where at?” Dylan finished the last of his sorbet and tossed the cup into the trash can—nothin’ but net.

“That new sushi place.”

“You hate sushi.” I folded my arms.

“Not all sushi,” Charlie said. “I like rice and veggies.”

I leveled her with a stare and almost said more but then paused. I would not make Charlie choose between me and Greg. I had to try harder to like him, for Charlie. “Love you. Have fun.”

She hugged me tighter, and I could feel her relief that I’d let it go. She hugged Dylan next, and he lifted her off her feet and whispered something in her ear that made her laugh.

“What did you say?” I asked him. Most of the team was heading out the door with goodbyes and waves, until Dylan and I were the only ones left. I was still working on my huge cone— most of the cookies and cream scoop was gone, but I still had the mint-chocolate chip layer to go—so we snagged a table and sat.

“I asked her to please tell me what a Wickham was.”

I laughed and leaned close like I was about to tell him a secret. “I’d tell you, but it would cost you six hours of your life.”

His eyes sparked with interest. He leaned even closer, and my train of thought was derailed. As was my remaining scoop of ice cream, which plopped from my cone to the table.

“That’s the universe saving you,” Dylan said.

“I’m sure this table’s clean enough to just scoop it right back on …” There were colorful stains from several different other flavors of ice cream on the table. I hesitated.

“I have an unopened toothpaste tube I can give you when we get home.”

I hummed Taps as I scooped my ice cream into a handful of napkins. And there was that smile again, which almost made losing my ice cream worth it. And reminded me.

“Let’s circle back to our earlier conversation.”

“Sure, boss.”

I bit back a smile. Dylan was fun. I’d heard a lot about him over the years—that he was talented, focused, driven, hurting, angry. But never fun. What a discovery.

“Why do you think no one’s glad you’re home but me?”

And like sunlight covered by clouds, his smile was gone in an instant. He stared at the pile of ice creamed napkins. “Because it’s true.”

“No, it’s not.”

“No one in this town likes me—present company excluded.”

I clamped my mouth shut. He really believed no one liked him. It was so sad. And so untrue.

He laughed humorlessly. “And who can blame them? I haven’t come home since I left for college. I didn’t give back the way Shiloh did. I couldn’t save Shiloh on the ice. I didn’t even come home for his funeral. It makes sense that everyone would want to avoid me.”

“They’re not avoiding you. They’re giving you space.”

“Same difference.”

“It’s not,” I insisted. “We’re all rooting for you, here. We always have.”

“Rosie, it’s okay. I’m resigned to the fact that I’m not welcome here. I made my own bed.”

Maybe he hadn’t done all the things Shiloh had, but no one had asked him to, or even expected him to. Dylan wasn’t Shiloh, and that wasn’t the bad thing Dylan seemed to think it was.

Well, it looked like I had a new goal. Not only did I need to help Dylan’s reputation, but I needed to open his eyes to how much he was loved in Winterhaven.