“Give it back.”




Summer giggled, clutching the bailey’s ice cream to her chest. “Nope! Nope nope nope, you’re cut off and this is mine now!”

“That,” she said, shaking the spoon at him, “is exactly why I took it from you, because you have had a taste and a taste and a taste and now there’s hardly any left! Also I think it made you drunk.”

“It’s my share.” He wasn’t petulant, not at all. Just stating facts, really. Facts that seemed to have eluded her for the time being. “I don’t see why my being drunk would be a problem. I’m much more fun if I was.”

About to put the spoon in her mouth, Summer lowered it to stare at Tony. “That’s not true! Don’t say that.”