Sage: Parts 27 * 28

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Part Twenty-seven

Friday, August 20, 2010.

“The movie doesn't start until seven forty-five,” Carey said, returning from the box office with tickets. “That gives us an hour. You hungry?”

Sage sat on the concrete steps in front of the movie theater. She'd been eying the old-fashioned ice cream parlor across the small street of the outdoor shopping mall. A huge poster of the most delicious-looking banana split filled half of the side window, and Sage's stomach rumbled with longing. Carey's eyes followed her gaze, and he grinned down at her.

“Come on, Red. I did say movie and some ice cream.” He reached for her hand to help her to her feet, but when she tried to tug away afterward, he threaded their fingers together and pulled her along after him. Sage smiled at his back.

It was a small enough gesture for her to fall in love all over again.

“Alright,” Carey said, as they stood under the massive menu sign, reading the fifty-five flavors of ice cream combinations. “What would you like?” He turned his blue eyes to her. She kept fairly quiet after they left the apartment, happy to just be with him and hoping that the less she said, the less likely she'd antagonize him, and they'd have a good time because of it.  Now, it was any wonder she could speak at all from the way his blue depths swallow her up.

“You choose,” she said, gifting him with a shy smile. He stared at her for the longest time. Sage's skin began to itch.  Was there something wrong?  She was trying to be nice and friendly, which wasn't as easy as it looked, considering how she'd much rather throw him over the marble slab and lick chocolate syrup off his chest. 

The boy behind the counter cleared his throat. Carey turned back to him and ordered the jumbo banana split with “double fudge chocolate for her, and strawberry for me.”

Sage laughed at him eating the pink ice cream. “I would have never figured you for the strawberry kind,” she said around a spoonful of chocolate-slathered banana.

He didn't look at her as he said, “I'm finding I like it more and more.”

His tone was too serious, and though she didn't exactly know if he meant something by that or not, she decided to lighten the mood. “Well, have a bite of this,” she said, pointing a hunk of fudge at his mouth with her spoon. “This beats strawberry any old day.”

He grunted. “I’ll never understand women and their affinity for chocolate.”

“Chocolate is a substitute,” she murmured and waved her spoon at him. When he didn't open up right away, she smashed the scoop into his lips, laughing at the smear of chocolate over his nose and jaw. “Oh, so that's how you want to play?” he asked cheerfully. He shoved strawberry across her mouth and cheeks, and she laughed out loud. Good thing they were sitting out on the patio. Otherwise, they'd be kicked out of the restaurant for their childish behavior.

Sage raised her fingers to her lips, wiping the ice cream off her skin and licking her fingers clean. Carey grabbed a handful of napkins and began cleaning his own face, but his motions stopped as he watched her tongue dart out to lick away the sticky cream.

Oh, who was she kidding? She wanted him to look at her with that desire darkening his irises, and that awareness tightening every muscle in his body. She wanted him to want her, touch her, make love to her, and she really wanted to grace his bed. But not at the expense of her pride and dignity.

Once they finished playing with their food, Carey gathered their trash and dumped it in a nearby receptacle. Then he excused himself to the bathroom. Sage allowed herself the time to gather her wits before he returned.

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