8. Hotaru
“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t speak the language before you believe me?” Hailey slips the spoon with pistachio ice cream into her mouth. “And stop looking at my ice cream like that.” She pulls the spoon through her lips, cleaning it before shaking it in front of my face. “It is not old lady ice cream.”
“It is.” Arlo backs me up, licking the edge of his simple cone with a single scoop of plain vanilla ice cream. It’s the only vanilla thing about him.
“At least three more times,” I admit. “I’m not looking at your ice cream, which, as I stated when you picked it, is an old lady flavor. I was looking at your mouth.” I draw a deep breath. “And now I’m looking at his.” I shake my head, looking back and forth between their gorgeous lips. “Ice cream was a terrible idea.”
Our little group huddled around a space heater near the entrance of Van Leeuwen erupts into cackles. It has to be the sugar high or our sore asses or the amount of stories we have from the evening spent getting owned by a toddler on the ice.
“It’s only terrible because you chose ranch-flavored ice cream,” Hailey refutes between laughs as she pretends to gag into my fancy cardboard cup of melting ice cream.
“I like to try new things.” I shrug. “They don’t always work out.”
“What’s something else you tried that didn’t work out?” Hailey asks.
“Don’t try to change the subject.” I narrow my gaze at her. “Where did you learn to speak Japanese?”
“I don’t speak it.” She shakes her whole cup of ice cream at me. “I’m learning. I only know a few words.”
“You pronounced the old proverb like a native speaker.” I dip my finger into her grandma-flavored ice cream, scoop up a bit, and slip it into my mouth. The flavors burst onto my tongue. I wish it was her climax I was tasting instead.
“You like my old lady ice cream.” She beams, and I swear the sun is rising.
“So you admit, it’s old lady ice cream.” I like Hailey, not her pistachio-flavored excuse for ice cream. I’m not about to admit it. Even to myself. Even if my best friend says he won’t care.
“Mio,” Arlo chimes.
“What about her?” I slide my narrowing gaze at him, suddenly suspicious of his intent in bringing her up.
“She’s the one who helped you with the pronunciation?” He waves his vanilla at Hailey.
She nods, and my hackles lower.
“Hota, what’s something you tried that didn’t work out?” She doubles down.
I raise the cup, slip from our tightly knit cluster, head to the garbage can to toss it, and place the spoon into the recycle container. When I return, she’s still looking at me expectantly. “Ranch ice cream.”
“Not even a good try at diverting,” she tsks .
“Keto?” I try.
She gives me a sharply hiked brow in answer while Arlo chuckles at my attempt.
“Fine, a simple and safe hetero relationship with a well-bred Japanese woman.” I snatch Arlo’s cone from his hand, bite half off, then give it back. “How’s that?” I ask neither and both of them at the same time around the decidedly delicious treat.
Hailey’s gaze goes into overdrive, flying between Arlo and me, before settling on my lips as I lick them. She snags the bottom of hers between her teeth for a second. “I thought you were into men and women.”
“I am.” Two very specific ones at the moment. One for all my moments.
Damn him.
“Why go into something when you know it’s destined to fail?” she asks, finishing her dessert.
“We need to get you in the ring. You don’t pull any punches,” I say, rubbing my chest.
“Her impact is deadly accurate too.” Arlo sighs. “Similar to someone else’s.” He eyes me.
When she tosses her cup and spoon and returns with as much conviction in her hiked brow as Coco did at landing a double spin jump thingy, it’s my turn to sigh.
“I wanted a family.” Want. “Despite my less-than-ideal upbringing, I wanted to create a family of my own.” I rub at the old pain in the center of my chest. “One that I could love unconditionally, who would love me the same in return.”
“It’s a perfect want.” Hailey smiles sweetly, a little somberly.
“For some, yes.” I nod and then bob one shoulder. “For others, it’s an impossibility.”
“Just because it didn’t work with one person doesn’t mean it couldn’t work with others.” Hailey uses the plural. I don’t take that to heart. I don’t take it as anything but hopeful blather from a drop of sunshine.
If I say anything to that, I’ll slaughter the mood. I bite my tongue.
“If only he could find a respectable woman who isn’t afraid of his cock.” Arlo doesn’t have quite the trouble with words.
“She was not,” Hailey scoffs.
“Was so.” Arlo chuckles. “One look and she ran for the hills.”
“I hate to speak ill of a woman I don’t know, but…” Hailey tosses her hair over her shoulder. “What a pussy.”
“You do, though.” I let my smile slip.
“I do what?” She points at herself. “I’ve never encountered a cock I can’t handle.”
I choke on nothing at all except Hailey’s ballsy words.
“That’s what you get for smiling.” Arlo pokes his elbow into my side.
He’s touched me more tonight than he has since that fucking Christmas at Willoughby Ridge.
I love it too much. I love being in the center of their intimate circle. It’s a scary place to adore because it’s theirs. Not mine.
“You know her,” I divert. “She’s your new language teacher.”
“Mio?” Hailey gasps. Arlo nods. “Of course, it didn’t work with her.” Hailey’s hands flail about. “She’s stunning and perfect. Too perfect.”
“Don’t worry about my ego there, sunshine,” I rib.
“If your ego is as big as your, apparently frightening, cock, then I think you’re okay.” Her head shakes, mussing her hair. “You need a woman rough around the edges, dirtied up a bit. A woman who’s seen things. Lived. Loved. Lost.” She grabs Arlo’s hand and pulls it to her lips. “Who’s learned how to love again.”
“That’s, ah, very specific.” I smirk to hide my discomfort.
“Hailey knows what she’s talking about. She’s a professional.” Arlo winks at me.
I level her with a glare. “If you try to set me up with Astor, I’m not inviting you to my next storm party.”
“Please, Astor is too perfect for you too.” She dismisses the idea outright.
“Ouch.” I clutch at my heart.
“I know just the woman for you.” She loops her arm with mine and her other with Arlo’s and steers us toward the limo. “What’s a storm party?”