"I like ice cream," I stated casually, licking the strawberry flavoured ice cream cone held in my hand.
He stared. "That's, um, interesting."
I smiled. "Just thought you'd like to know."
"Uh, okay then," he replied.
"Hey, I wonder what your ice cream tastes like," I mused, eyes twinkling with mischief.
He choked on his chocolate sundae. "Excuse me?!"
I blinked innocently. "I was just wondering what your ice cream would taste like."
He blushed. "U-uh," he cleared his throat, "here, have some." He pushed the small bowl of ice cream towards me.
I frowned, staring at it. "That's not what I meant."
He fell off his chair.
Ignoring all the weird looks of the people in the ice cream bar, I got up and walked over to him, holding out a hand to help him up.
I chuckled. "Here," I said, grinning. "Let me lend a hand."
Poor guy looked like he was about to explode.
Taking a deep breath, he took my hand and I helped him up looking ever so innocent and angelic.
He stood up, playing nervously with the hem of his shirt. A nice, plain grey vest over a white polo.
I ruffled his head of brown hair and he looked up at me through his nerdy glasses with honey coloured eyes.
I was sure I looked absolutely edible today with blonde hair in that oh-so-sexy bed headed state and blue-green eyes ever so slightly outlined with black liner.
I flashed him a smile. "My place or yours?"
He scoffed, a hint of a smile beginning to tug at his lips. "You're insufferable."