On the Edge of Tomorrow

Chapter 16

"So, what's the plan for the best malt?" I asked as we stepped out into the simmering June heat.

"Plan? That's not how this works." Tim shook his head. "The art of the chocolate malt hunt is this: we stop at every ice cream shop, greasy spoon, and mom-and-pop fast-food joint to ask if they have a malt. Billy grows increasingly agitated and terrible to be around with every passing establishment. And just before we end our friendship entirely over the ill-fated tour, we stumble across a place with a malt."

"But why don't you look up a spot that has a malt before you leave? It seems like it'd be a much more enjoyable adventure." I asked, looking between Billy and Tim as we began down the sidewalk.

"Billy, care to answer that?" A playfulness entered Tim's voice.

Billy gave him a sideways look before he spoke. "I ask at restaurants, so they pause when I ask. A malt is a dying delicacy. If I ask and a couple of others ask, maybe they'll put them back on the menu," he shrugged.

"That's adorable." I smiled up at him.

His face flushed as he dipped his head, but his dimples peeked through his curtain of hair.

"Adorable isn't the word I'd use; bat shit crazy is my preference," Tim continued as we walked towards Fenway Park.

"It's not as horrible as he makes it seem." Billy's face remained dipped, so he didn't have to speak above a low tone for his words to carry to my ear. It brought his face close to mine.

"It doesn't sound awful at all," I smiled as I turned my face to his.

In a split second, I pushed forward and gave him a soft kiss. It was a blink-and-you-missed-it peck, but it still sent electricity coursing from my lips to my toes. When I pulled away, the edges of Billy's lips tipped to a smile as he grasped my hand tighter and lifted it, giving the back of my hand a demure kiss before letting the knot of our fingers drop between us.

"So, are we ready for embarrassing story numero uno?" Tim teased.

"Do your worst, man; I was an endearing child." Billy tugged my hand slightly, pulling me closer to his side.

"Endearing?" Tim raised an eyebrow. "Really, Muffin Man?"

"Oh, come on," Billy gave him a shove.

"When we were kids, we used to watch wrestling..." Tim stopped when he saw a giggle on my face. "It was the 80s," he scolded. "So, your adorable Billy decided he had a wrestling alter-ego, but the dude couldn't say Muscle Man to save his life. So we spent a solid five years calling him Muffin Man."

"Aw, that's so cute." I looked up at Billy to see his dimples again.

"See, cute. You've got nothing. Oh, and I already told her the soapbox story," Billy added.

"If you want me to go straight to the big guns, I'll go straight to the big guns," Tim threatened. "Lily, do you mind if I call you Lily?" Tim continued as he slung an arm around my shoulders.

"Well, it's my name," I shrugged.

"Excellent, Lily. Did you know that as a child, Billy hated socks?" Tim heavily landed on the 'hated,' which caused Billy to groan.

"Come on, man," Billy argued.

"Who's adorable now?" Tim teased.

"Wait, what's the big deal with hating socks?" I asked.

"Well, his mom always got mad at him because his feet and shoes stunk. So, he solved the problem." Tim lifted his gaze from me to Billy.

"It worked." Billy shook his head.