Chapter Nine
Abbott
I left the ice-cream shop with my spoon. Yesterday, I’d thought I’d never get it back, and now that it was in my possession. I was thrilled. But also, my thoughts should’ve been all about that spoon.
Only, they weren’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about Soren. Soren. The name suited him. I was happy to finally get a name for the smoking-hot daddy who made the delicious ice cream and didn’t look at me weird because of my spoon.
“Soren.” I loved the taste of it on my tongue.
There was no denying I had a crush on him after the party, but it was even bigger now.
The entire way home, I kept replaying our time at the shop.
He cleaned my spoon for me. He kept it safe.
He sat with me, giving me ice cream, wiping the hot fudge from my lip.
All little pieces that by themselves weren’t really that special, but put together were everything.
Soren was nice. I’d seen that at the party and had already sort of knew it from the few times I’d seen him at the club. There was something about his demeanor that was welcoming and kind.
Today felt like more than him being nice to me, though. I felt special. When he sat and ate with me, he didn’t spend the time looking to see if he was needed at work. His attention was on me. Only me.
I wanted to believe that my interest in him was reciprocated, and I was pretty sure it was, but not 100 percent sure.
It wasn’t until I got home that I saw I’d made just as big a mistake as I had at the party.
There, I forgot to get his name. And here, I got his name.
But did I get his number? No. Did I give him mine? No.
At this rate, it was going to take four more accidental meetings before I actually was brave enough to tell him I was interested in him.
I pulled up my group chat with my little friends and sent them a picture of my spoon.
Sammy was the first to respond, asking me how I got it back.
So I told them the story and used a voice message, not wanting to type out a whole entire book for them.
Hopefully, they were all in places where they could listen to it.
They peppered me with questions, wanting every detail, and I was glad to give it. I wished I’d invited them all over so we could do this face-to-face. This was the type of conversation junk food and a beer would pair nicely with.
So was this a date? Luke asked.
I immediately said back, No. It wasn’t a date. Or was it? No. It couldn’t be. Probably. Definitely not. Possibly.
Sure, Brock snapped back with the eye roll emoji.
Are you guys where you can talk?
By some miracle, they all said they were, and I pulled Zoom and linked it for them. This was getting too complicated for texting.
“Look at you. Somebody found a daddy,” Brock said, sticking out his tongue.
“No, I didn’t.”
“But?” Sammy asked. He was in his car but either had been just about to leave somewhere or pulled in for the conversation. The other two were both at their places.
“I want to see him again.”
“Look at you, going from ‘I don’t need a daddy’ all the way to ‘How do I see the hot daddy again?’” Luke said.
I pinched my nose. “I’m serious. I don’t know what to do. I like him and it’s not because he’s hot and it’s not because he got me my spoon back.” Although, in hindsight, I was glad it was lost so he could. “It’s just, I like him.”
“So you just go over there and ask him out,” Brock said.
“I can’t do that.” If I could, I wouldn’t be calling them.
“Why not?” Luke asked.
“Reasons.” Which were all basically boiling down to I was scared to make the first move.
“You’re ridiculous. Listen. He’s a daddy from Chained.
He met you when you were little. He knows about your spoon.
So, of course, he isn’t going to push you to go out.
He’s going to want to have at least some space for you to make the decision.
That’s what a good daddy does. And giving you back your prized possession and then asking you out could be seen as a power trip. ” When did Sammy get to be so smart?
“Okay. But that doesn’t change the fact I don’t want to just ask him out.”
“I think you should.” Luke was going to be the one who pushed hardest. Some friends losing their buddies to daddies would want to hold onto the last one with both hands. Not Luke. He wanted everyone to be happy.
My friends went back and forth, and the more they spoke, the more I decided I wanted to be brave.
“I don’t even have his number.”
“Duh,” Luke said. “You could just call the shop.”
That was better than asking someone for his number, which felt like an invasion of privacy.
“Fine. That’s what I’m going to do. Or maybe I’ll go back to the shop, and I’m just going to ask him.” Both sounded really hard. “I know. How about we all go get ice cream?”
“Abbott,” Sammy said, “you can do this. You don’t need us there. You can just go and do it.”
After a pep talk from them all, I went back to the shop. I nearly turned around multiple times, including when I got there. But he saw me through the window, looked up at me, smiled, and waved. I couldn’t leave after that. So instead, I went in.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
I nodded. “I—I wanted to ask you something. Would you maybe want to go out sometime, like, on a date?”
“I’d like that.” He pulled out his phone. “Let’s exchange numbers.”
Unlike before, the place was getting really busy and we didn’t get much conversation after swapping numbers, but I was okay with that. My mission had been accomplished.
Once home, I stared at the contact and considered what I should call him. Soren was the obvious answer, but Hot Ice-Cream Daddy didn’t sound too bad either. In the end, I did “Soren, the hot ice-cream daddy.” Because he was all those things and more.