Wyatt
cute ice cream date
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The late afternoon sun made everything feel golden…warm sidewalks, the scent of summer air, and the sticky-sweet joy of a melting ice cream cone in your hand. You leaned into the bench beside him, your thigh brushing his as you tilted your head back to take another bite, only to realize half your scoop was already starting to drip.
That cone’s not gonna make it,he said with a grin, eyes on yours but flicking down like he’d already clocked the soft trail of vanilla edging toward your fingers. You went to lick it…too slow. He beat you to it. Without a word, he leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue along the edge of your cone, slow and deliberate, catching the melting drip just before it hit your knuckle. His hand hovered near yours, not quite touching, but close enough that you felt the heat of it, the intention. Then he leaned back, like he hadn’t just done that at all.
Wasting good ice cream,he said casually, licking his own bottom lip like it wasn’t driving you insane.
That should be illegal.Your heart stuttered in your chest. It was playful, it should have been playful, but there was something in his eyes when he looked at you afterward. A flicker of mischief, but also a quiet dare. Like he knew exactly what he was doing. Like he wanted you to react. He nudged your elbow with his and smirked.
Need help finishing the rest, or are you gonna behave?