Page 40 of When In Doubt

He shrugs, caught. “Mint chocolate chip, every time.”

“We always used to go to Buckley’s,” she says fondly.

“I loved that place!” I exclaim, remembering the tiny ice cream parlor just off main street. My mom used to take me once a week during the summer.

“Any time we need a treat,” Valerie says, smiling as Oscar places a bowl in front of her. “Good grades, dentist’s appointments. Even after all that horribleness with the Riley boy.”

I straighten, fingers tensing against the tablecloth. “Jamie Riley?” What is she talking about?

“Yes!” She snaps her fingers. “What a nasty young man.”

“Mom,” Oscar says, warning in his tone.

How does she know my elementary school bully? He wouldn’t have even been in Oscar’s grade. My fingers start tapping against my knee. One, two, three, four, thumb. Thumb, four, three, two one.

“What horribleness?” I press.

“It really doesn’t matter,” Oscar says, not meeting my eyes.

Valerie starts to catch on to whatever Oscar’s not saying and shovels a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, like she’s trying to physically stop the words from coming.

I bristle slightly at the way he’s brushing me off. “It seems like it does.”

“He and I got into it once, it wasn’t a big deal.”

“What happened?”

He sighs, “I honestly don’t even remember, probably just dumb kid stuff.”

I catch Valerie frowning, just a tiny bit, but it’s enough that I know he’s lying.

What’s he not telling me?

Chapter Thirteen

OSCAR

Ihave to shove my hands deep into the pockets of my jacket to stop myself from taking it off and wrapping it around Freya. Her cardigan was probably fine for the weather when she arrived, but the temperature dropped while we were having dinner and now, walking her home, it’s like needles against my cheeks.

I offered it to her at least three times, but she was adamant.

“I could have driven you,” I say, knowing it’s pointless. I tried to get her into the truck when she first said she was going to head out, but she was determined to walk. The best I could manage was convincing her to let me join her. But now, as she’s curling her shoulders in and trying to shield her face from the wind, I have to fight the urge to toss her over my shoulder and put her into the cab where I can blast the heating until the tip of her nose isn’t quite so pink anymore.

She shrugs. “I like walking.”

She was quiet during dessert. I hated lying to her, but dinner with my mom didn’t exactly seem like the time to bring up my childhood infatuation with her. The more time I spend with her, the more I wonder if I ought to tell her, but I wouldn’t know where to start. I’m honestly kind of impressed that my mom didn’t make more of a scene about it. She was well aware of how I felt about Freya, and she’s been trying to get us in the same room since Freya came back. It’s probably half the reason for Freya’s dinner invite.

I just can’t believe Mom brought up Jamie Riley. I still remember her face when she got called into school by the principal. I was close to getting kicked out and she’d been livid until I explained how much he’d been bullying Freya. Then she marched me down to Buckley’s and told me to never stop doing what was right, even if it got me into trouble.

It’s probably all this talk about my feelings from way back that has the familiar protectiveness rearing its head. My mind keeps catching on what Freya said about Denver. The convention sounds great, but she seemed a little apprehensive.

It’s a heck of a drive to do alone, and surely if she’s by herself, then she’s not going to be able to take a break all day? I hate the thought of her not having anyone she feels like she could ask.

Fuck. I know what’s coming, but knowing doesn’t put a stopper on the words.

“I’ll take you to Denver.”

Freya doesn’t say anything. Shit, is she mad? She’s probably mad. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, the strawberry blond strands catching the light.