Bianca
I stared at the ice cream cone for a moment, still processing the fact that Isaac had actually gone and gotten it for me after his adamant refusal. Finally, I reached out and took it from his hand.
“Thank you,” I said, suddenly feeling sheepish.
Isaac sat down beside me on the bench, careful to leave a few inches between us. He hadn’t taken a lick of his own cone yet, seemingly more interested in watching my reaction.
“I’ve been a controlling asshole, haven’t I?”
His admission took me by surprise, perhaps even more than the ice cream. When I glanced up at him through my lashes, I couldn’t help but take notice of the slight redness to his cheeks. Was he just as embarrassed as I was?
“You’ve never been the controlling type before,” I pointed out.
He sighed
