The Ice Cream Guy

Michael pushed my hand off his chest and looked out the window in silence.

Despite his somber demeanor, Michael still looked like a statue. He smelled so good it made me want to drown, and unlike the usual, he now smelled like he was wet, with the low pressure of a rainy day.

I pursed my lips. "If you don't want to leave, don't do it for me."

Michael finally spoke, but it was something else entirely. "What's going on with you and that ice cream guy?"

I thought for a moment and finally understood why he hadn't spoken to me.

Michael's expression was neutral, but I could hear the anger in his voice. He was angry about it. I couldn't help but smile. I knew I shouldn't have laughed when my mate was still mad, but I felt genuine joy.

I had wondered if this was why Michael had pulled me away in anger.