The funny part is, that so many years ago when I first met Mr. Fredericks (Robbie), he was pleasant and cordial despite all the shit going on. Obviously I did not leave the best impression on him and something must have massively shifted throughout the years.

My prior feelings of heroism no longer linger when I think about him—in fact, I want to shake his hand and then drop kick him.

Axel and me sit on the curb outside the laundromat, close enough so the pizza box balances on each of our thighs.

"That was a mistake, going to the restaurant," he says, breaking the silence now that we've finished eating.

"You didn't know what would happen," I say.

"No, but I had an inkling. That's our relationship. Sweet and sour. But the kind of sweet and sour that you get from 24 Hour China Pot on third street at midnight. Not the kind you get at Eve's Garden on front street."

Axel shakes his head and stares down into the pizza box, nothing but crumbs and a nibbled piece of crust left.

"For what it's worth, the pizza was excellent. Easily the best I've had since I left Jersey," I say, wiping the semolina flour off of my fingers with a napkin.

"He doesn't hate you. But he's heard everything, too, kind of like Claudia," Axel reveals.

"Well yeah, he's your dad. I figured," I say. "I'd do the same if I was in your shoes."

Axel nods and scratches right above his eyebrow with his thumb, looking off into the distance. "This is starting to feel surreal. Like you're here—next to me—for how many days now? It's you."

He grabs my wrist, shaking my arm gently to check if I'm real and alive, a small chuckle passing his lips. I watch his fingers wrap around my skin, imagining them all over my body. I blink, snapping back into reality.

"It does feel surreal," I mumble.

Axel's eyebrows narrow. "What about your ex-fiancé? You're going to have to go back at some point, right?"

The word "ex" makes me shiver despite the quickly fading sun against my skin. "I don't really have a plan yet. I haven't talked to him in a few days, really."

But the truth is that soon Sebastian will be boarding a plane right back here, and I'll have to face everything that comes with that. Away from the newfound comforts of Axel and right back into my life in San Diego with organic kale chips and avocados on everything.

"Sounds like you're—" Axel stops short, shaking his head. "Not going to say it."

"Say it," I tell him, turning to look into his eyes.

"Sounds like you're running away from him."

My head dips back in clarity, immediately understanding exactly what he's trying to convey.

"Like I did with you, right? Only this time it's my choice."

Axel bites his lower lip back, staring down at the pizza box. "I didn't want to say it, but you insisted."

"Right, right..." I continue, smirking.

Axel lifts the pizza box up, rising to his feet. He walks over to a trash can and stuffs the whole thing inside. Then, he stands in front of me with his hands on his hips, all leg. Bewildered, I look up, his torso blocking the sun. He reaches his hand out and I grab it to stand up, but we don't let go.

He quickly licks his lips, something I'm almost positive he does just to drive me crazy. If it was legal, I'd probably rip my clothes off right here and now—but I don't want to appear too desperate. It's only been five years.

My free hand curves against his neck and jaw so my thumb can brush against his freckles. Some have faded over the years, I've noticed.

He reaches up and places his hand over mine, like he wants me to keep it there forever. There's something unspoken between us—a longing for the time we've missed. Something almost desperate that we're both too afraid to admit at surface level. But deep down, we both feel it. It's there like a form of energy, waiting to spark alive.

"Your clothes are probably done drying," he mumbles. Neither of us move.

"That's cool," I say, refusing to break eye contact.

"I should go get them for you," he says, a flinch in his muscles as he moves his hand from on top of mine first. Then, he pulls back and walks into the laundromat.

When he's inside, I blink a few times and check my hands. Was that real? Am I still alive? Yes and yes.

Whatever just happened is something I can't ignore for much longer.

"I've got them," Axel says, a bit more pep in his voice as he pushes the door open with his hip and rejoins me on the sidewalk. My clothes are dumped into a laundry basket which he's holding.

"Where did you find that?" I ask, pointing to the dark green basket.

"It was on top of the dryer. I guess someone felt generous," he says.

"Or you just committed theft," I add.

"Want me to call my dad?" He teases, but my expression says it all: No fucking way.

Back in his truck, Axel rolls the windows down and turns the engine on. Evening air drifts through as the sun almost completely disappears below the horizon. In the near distance, we hear the jingle of an ice cream truck.

"Let's find it," Axel says with a childish grin on his face.

"It's probably at Hyde park," I suggest, remembering one being parked there many days when I was young.

He shifts the truck into drive and ventures out onto the main road, driving exactly in the direction I thought he would.

At first, I doubted my abilities of remembering where different places were here. But now, the more I get around town, it's coming back to me like riding a bike.

As he drives, I notice he's tilted slightly towards me. One hand on the wheel, the other elbow resting against the center console. Slowly, I reach out and find his free hand, lacing our fingers together like this is something we do every day. My cheeks feel hot as he squeezes my hand, accepting it with a grin in my direction.

"So, not to be too pressing or anything, but do you think you'll take the ring off?" Axel asks, lifting our intertwined hands up.

That's when I notice the hand he's holding is my left one. The ever-so-problematic ring is on the designated finger, and he probably felt it when I laced them together.

"Oh," I mumble, pulling my hand away from his. "I'm sorry. It must be weird—"

"Fucking stop," Axel breathes, grabbing my hand and putting our fingers back together exactly the way they were before. "It's not weird, I'm just asking."

"If it's not weird you wouldn't be asking," I say, turning to look out of the window.

"Things are only as weird as you make them," Axel says, turning around the corner to Hyde Park. I don't say anything in return. Instead, I stare at the ice cream truck that's parked along the side of the street, illuminated in the growing darkness. A few kids are in line, one chubby boy with a basketball against his hip is ordering first.

Axel seamlessly parallel parks his truck across the street and we both get out. Together, we cross the street and tag onto the line behind the kids. My arms are crossed as Axel pulls out his wallet.

"I was just asking," Axel begins, his voice a whisper as he pulls some cash out, "because I'm curious. Maybe a little impatient. Definitely not up to date on rules of engagement and rings and shit."

"Impatient?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, like, as in, 'when's he gonna take the fucking ring off?'" Axel says in a mocking tone.

"But why does that matter?" I press, trying to squeeze any information I'm able to out of him.

Axel's voice raises just a few decibels, enough to make the kids in front of us turn. "I told you. Because I was fucking curious."

"Shhh!" I hush him, my finger to my lips as we take one step closer in line.

"You really think these kids never heard the word fuck before?" Axel asks, quieter now as he looks around to either side of us.

"What can I get ya?" The man at the truck window says. He's got a long gray mustache and a round face, rosy topped cheeks to match. He definitely doesn't look like the kind of man who would be serving you ice cream from a truck, but rather the man at the mall dressed up as Santa Claus.

"Vanilla cone, chocolate jimmies," I say without hesitation. It's what I ordered the one time dad let us stop on our way back from dinner eight years ago.

A few bugs are drawn to the light around the truck, so I swat them away while I wait for Axel. He looks at me in disbelief, like I was super human for making my mind up so quickly.

"Uh, I guess, a vanilla cone with the red dip. Whatever that is."

The man hobbles to the machine and starts working on our ice cream. I turn around to look at Axel, the fluorescent truck lights shining in his eyes.

"This kind of feels like a date," I tease.

Axel rolls his eyes, looking around again. There are a few couples peppered around the park eating ice cream, strolling around the main fountain, or doing both simultaneously. A park light flickers as a young-looking teenage couple has a very awkward kiss underneath it.

"That was probably us," Axel says with a laugh, whipping his head back in my direction. "I'd say most of it was a good kind of awkward."

I laugh, turning back around to grab my ice cream cone from the cheerful man. "You first kissed me in an elevator. In a hospital. Remember? Talk about romantic."

Axel pays, slinking the change into the tip jar. Then he grabs his cone, walking towards a grassy bank between the park and the sidewalk. "Of fucking course I do. That was the only way I could shut you up for a moment. It worked, right?"

I shrug, not entirely remembering what happened after seeing my sister tired and pale in a hospital bed. "I think so."

We both sit down. I go criss cross, Axel sits with his legs out, free hand behind him for support. He takes a bite, the white soft serve dripping over the cherry shell.

"It's good," he says with his mouth full and eyebrows raised.

I start laughing, covering my mouth with my hand. "It looks really fucking messy though."

He shrugs, going in for another bite.

We sit there for a while, finishing our ice cream as the jingle continuously plays in the background. It's entirely dark outside now, the park lights turning everything into a different world. People are still out, kids are still playing. Summer is almost here—you can feel it dancing in the air. Next week is Memorial Day, everything happening so fast.

That's when I remember the picnic I'm supposed to go to with Sebastian. His family is hosting it on the beach like they do every year.

My heart stops for a second, a nervous rush traveling from my chest to my stomach. Sebastian will probably want me to go. He'll want us both to go and pretend everything is fine because he can't break news like ours to his family on a holiday.

"Are you okay?" Axel asks, jutting his head to look at me.

"Yes," I say, shivering to try and blur away any thoughts about Seb and San Diego.

"Alright. You just like, froze," Axel says, relaxing back into his position. "Maybe it was the ice cream?"

"I'm just thinking," I swallow, "about San Diego."

"Well stop," Axel says, so matter of fact it makes me truly want to.

He reaches over and grabs my cheek with his free hand, turning my head towards him so our eyes meet. "You're with me. Think about that stuff when you're really angry or something and at least get a good workout in over it."

I push his hand off of my cheeks, playfully grinning. "Yes, sir."

His eyes go wide and he smirks, finishing the last bit of his cone. "Sir? Maybe I could get used to that."

I throw my head back and laugh. While it is something I use intentionally, it's always fun to see people's reactions in less serious situations. I finish my ice cream, side eyeing Axel.

"Wait!" Axel exclaims, playfully pushing my chest back. "You said the same thing to my dad earlier—I was listening. Forget that, never say it again around me. It's officially ruined."

I'm still laughing about it as I retort and push him back, but he grabs hold of my arms and puts me back in my place. Surprisingly, he's much stronger than I would have thought, but after hearing how he boxes it would be stupid to assume he wasn't at all. I'm starting to see all of the muscle beneath his skin.

Now I'm laying back in the grass and he's lingering over me, so close I could scream. His fingers loosen their grip on my arms as he comes crashing down.

Our lips press together in one magnetic movement, fitting so perfectly you'd think they were made for each other. The kiss starts soft, hesitant but still laced with desire. Cherry and vanilla is all I taste, but somehow I want more of him. My lips part and immediately the kiss deepens.

Our noses nudge together as my hand slips under his shirt and up his chest, feeling goosebumps forming all over my body.

I'm suddenly a teenager again, feeling so in love with him it could kill me.

The only thing that pulls him away is the sound of voices close enough they could be huddled around us. Thankfully they're not, but a group walks past with their kids, talking loudly, possibly giving us some questionable looks. Everyone else is far away, where they were before.

"Oh fuck," he mumbles, sitting up next to me, observing it all. He scratches the back of his neck.

"What?!" I sit up too, thinking we're about to get fined for some sort of indecency, even though I'm being extremely decent.

"I just got carried away," he says, nodding in the direction of the group of people who just walked past us. "I thought we were getting surrounded or something."

"You're paranoid," I add. Maybe it's because I was in the Coast Guard and Seb and me had to get very creative all the time, but that stuff doesn't bother me too much. When I see flashing lights and the sound of a helicopter whirring overhead, then we'll talk.

He runs his fingers through his hair, a sigh of relief relaxing his shoulders.

"Should we get you home?" He asks, grabbing my hand again. He looks at me with a soft smile, his shirt still messy from my hand underneath it.

"Only if you're coming with me," I tease.