Lone [MATURE HS]

Chapter 7.

"Ha--...stop," I whisper to him, holding carefully my serving of mango frozen yogurt, topped with a bunch of chocolate desserts and a few slices of pineapples. A few seven to nine miles from Deborah's place was a frozen yogurt spot called Orange Leaf, a self-served parlor where you grab whatever you want and payment regards the weight in ounces.

Harry looks up at the cashier, bottle of whipped cream in his hand. He then looks to me and aims the tip of the dispenser onto his chocolate flavored servings, topped with strawberries and mango slices, then few chocolate chips. Whipped cream stacks on top of his frozen yogurt, making a huge hill and he continues to do it like an overexcited child before I grab the cold can from him.

Flickering his eyes to me, I stare back and quietly scold him with a soft laugh at my lips. "Harry...people are looking at you like you've gone nuts."

"I haven't gone, but I have them," he remarks lowly, making me struggle to suppress a grin as he remains stolid. His little jokes are becoming more prominent and clearly more frequent the more time I spend with him. I can't say I mind because I truly don't. He suddenly grabs the can from me and fills in spots he missed with the creamy substance.

Frowning lightly at him, I mutter, "Guess you have a sweet tooth, huh?"

From his lowered head, he looks up at me with narrowed eyes and says, "You could say that." His voice is low and husky.

By the time we've reached the cashier, Harry ignores my attempts to tell him that I can pay for my own. Completely ignores my little warnings and goes on with it. I send him a look and when he makes eye contact, he stares, unfazed by my warning gaze.

He hands me my yogurt that I take with a thank you, wanting to say other words but Harry beats me. "Do you want to eat here or?"

I shrug. "Wherever is fine with me."

"Okay, then I have an idea."

Raising an eyebrow, I give him a long look before un-pausing. "What is it?"

"Don't look at me like that," he chuckles beneath his breath, grabbing a small orange spoon for me and himself. "You've ever been to a little league game?"

"No? Is that where little kids play baseball?" I ask him.

He nods. "My nephew plays. He's a bit crazy and temperamental."

"There's a game tonight?"

"Yeah. Started twenty minutes ago. If you want to go watch? I've got no other ideas," he tells me.

Shrugging, I begin to nod. "Alright, yeah. It'll be fun. I love kids, too."

We walk out and head towards his car, a well kept pick up truck that smells like cologne and mint. The smell is heavenly and I keep the thought to myself obviously. I have an odd obsession with cologne and guys who smell of it endlessly.

Halfway to the game, Harry and I have already almost finished our frozen yogurt. He uses one hand on the steering wheel while the other holds the serving of frozen yogurt. I watch him struggle to get the spoon to his mouth too many times before I ask, "Do you need help?"

He sighs. "Yeah."

"Okay, come," I quickly take the last spoonful of frozen yogurt to finish mine off. I place it by the cup holders between us and reach out for Harry's cup. He turns his head to look at me, frowning with a questioning look. "What? Hand me your frozen yogurt."

"Are you going to feed me?" He questions, highly confused.

I nod, chuckling when he quickly widens his eyes and sighs. Shaking his head, he puts the spoon back into the yogurt and hands it to me. Smiling to myself, I sit up straighter and scoop up some of the desert, just as Harry mutters, "Can't believe I'm being fed right now."