Not Broken: The Happily Ever After(27)

“Not really, but I needed out of the house. Call it a jail break,” I answered with a small laugh before tasting my cotton candy explosion.

Mom kept watching me and asking if I felt dizzy. They were still worried as to why I’d passed out. I wished I could tell them I was having the panic attacks again, the few I’d had around them were never that bad. They’d happened before I’d begun therapy. I was lucky—if I could even use that word—because the worst of it came when I was alone, mostly at night. Plus, telling them would trigger a slew of why questions I didn’t want to answer. I certainly didn’t want Malcolm to know how big a role he was playing in my apparent ungluing. It wasn’t fair to him that I couldn’t keep it together. After all, he wasn’t really doing anything wrong.

“Mom’s been a bit overzealous in her need to take care of me.” I held up my arm, which was partially covered in the brace. “It’s a sprain, but she’s been acting like it’s broken, and I’m unable to do anything for myself.”

“Ah, well she’s just worried.” He paused. “We all are.”

I focused on my ice cream. “I know.”

I took another lick of my ice cream before getting up to throw it away.

“Didn’t like it?”

“Not really. I really should stick to what I know instead of trying new things.”

“Trying new things isn’t always bad,” he replied with a smirk.

“Are we still talking about ice cream?”

“If you like,” he answered, taking another lick of his.

Watching him do that gave me a feeling I’d not experienced in a long time, an instant warming sensation between my legs. I pressed them together as I inched away from him. Malcolm sat with his arm lying on the back of the bench, his long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle, and he was completely unaware of how his innocent actions were bringing to life feelings I’d thought were dead and buried.

Malcolm continued to enjoy his ice cream as he looked around at the other patrons scattered about. He even started humming while taking slow, long licks. While his attention was on our surroundings, mine was on his mouth. The way his tongue curled just a bit right before it retreated back into his mouth. The way his lips puckered when he moved to catch a falling drip of his treat. The memories of the few kisses we’d shared made their way to the forefront, and I found myself actually wanting to experience one right then. What the hell was wrong with me?

“So,” he said, turning his attention back to me, but his words stopped and the most delicious smile spread across his face.

Mine heated up in response, and quickly diverted my eyes. Longer hair would have been ideal in that moment, so it could help hide my embarrassment.

Malcolm slid closer to me. “Would you like some?”

I shook my head.

“Are you sure?” he teased. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him take another deliberately slow lick of his ice cream. “I think you picked the wrong flavor. Seems to me you are most certainly a lover of chocolate.”

“Chocolate is actually kind of plain for my liking,” I countered, looking up to see the playful gleam in his eyes.

“Chocolate is never plain,” he said, lowering his voice. “It’s flavorful, rich, and…deeply fulfilling.” That last part made me shudder involuntarily.

“And here I thought you might be a vanilla type of guy.”

The smile on his face got wider. “I do love vanilla just as much. Sweet, creamy, and an absolute delight on my tongue.”

I shifted on the bench and crossed my legs. “How do you make eating ice cream sound so sexual?”

“I’m merely commenting on the flavors I enjoy. If you’re picking up any sort of double meanings, it’s not my fault your mind is in the gutter.” He winked and held the cone closer to my mouth. “Try some, you know you want to.” A wicked smile played on his lips.

The lower half of my body contracted, and I pressed my lips together. What the hell was it with this man that managed to affect me in such a way? The idea of sex, of wanting it, used to make my stomach turn. Being vulnerable to someone in that way was something I’d told myself I’d not do again. Too many times I was a slave to my traitorous body. Never again. But being near Malcolm was messing with my head, and I found myself responding to him.

Taking a deep breath, I placed my hands over his as I leaned forward to sample the ice cream. The smile on his face widened.

“It’s very good,” I said and licked my lips.

Malcolm smiled and gave me another wink. “See, Ginger, I know exactly what you like.”

Those words were like a bungee snapping me back to reality. “I’ll be back.” Quickly, I retreated to the bathroom at the back of the small building.

I was glad it was only a one-person space. Leaning against the locked door, I took in large deep breaths. My hands trembled, and my heart rate sped up.

“Not now. Please not now,” I whispered.

Those words, that name. Malcolm had called me by that name for years, yet it took Seth less time to take something that was once meaningful and turn it into something twisted.

I walked over to the sink and splashed some cold water on my face. “You’re mine, Ginger. You’ll always be mine!” Seth’s angry declaration that night replayed in my head. Gripping the edges of the sink, I worked to force the memory away before it took control. A knock at the door startled me.