Misery Loves Company

Track 19: Love Song

Author's note: So...yesterday while I was editing this chapter, I accidentally published it and had to unpublish it. That's why when some of you were alerted about an update you couldn't view it. Sorry about the confusion!

Misery Loves Company

By: theinkslingerr

Track 19: Love Song

We got water ice instead.

It looked like junk food was quickly becoming "our thing."

There was a line in front of the Rita's we'd pulled up to, so I told Rocco to wait in the car while I got our water ice. He argued, wanting to wait in line with me, but once I helped him visualize the riot that would ensue the minute someone saw his face, he shut his mouth and stayed in the car like a good boy.

In line I was able to recover from Rocco's crazy driving and check Twitter and Instagram. If First Stall girl had posted the pic of me and Dom, I'd definitely see it on my feed or explore page. I held my breath as I searched #dominicfinn a million different ways and let out a huge sigh of relief when I didn't find anything. Ignoring the hundreds of follow requests on both apps (courtesy of my newfound fame), I put my phone away and moved forward in line.

When I slid back inside the Mercedes with my mango gelati and Rocco's cup of Swedish fish flavored water ice, he threw me a lop-sided grin that died when I said, "Here's your change."

"This is the entire twenty I gave you."

"I know, I paid."

He gave me a look.

"What?" I asked defensively. "You bought me and Eli's ice cream last time."

Rocco sighed and started the car, tearing out of the parking lot like he was in a Fast and Furious movie. At the first red light, he stuck a spoonful of water ice in his mouth then looked over at me. "Thanks."

My gaze flickered away from his vibrant hazel eyes, heart going a little haywire. I mumbled, "You're welcome" before shoving more custard and water ice down my throat. A sudden chill went through my body and I rubbed an exposed thigh, trying to generate a little heat. Every window in the car was rolled up, but it was late September, I was dressed like a hooker, and I was eating something cold. Right before I put my water ice in a cup holder to save for later, Rocco's heavy leather jacket landed on my lap. He fiddled with some controls on the dashboard and a moment later my seat started warming up.

"Better?" he asked.

I nodded, smiling softly.

"What you've got on looks pretty warm," he observed dryly. "Enid's pick?"

"What tipped you off?"

"Hard to say, but probably the look of terror on your face every time you have to take a step in those shoes."

It was hard not to laugh at myself. Guess it was obvious I couldn't walk in high-heels. I snuggled into my warm seat, free hand stroking the jacket in my lap. "What kind of car is this? Sort've looks like an old-timey bat mobile minus the wings." I examined the complicated, futuristic interior with wood grain accents.

"It's a Mercedes Maybach Exelelor." Rocco slurped from his cup loudly. "And Ackerman never lets us forget it."

"Really? Looks like every other fancy car to me."

"The back seats recline like on an airplane."

I twisted around to check them out just as the light turned green.