"Something like that," she responds with a slight blush of her own at the implications, focusing her gaze on anything that isn't his backside or... shoulders. Why does he have such nice shoulders, too? Why is she even noticing? The ping of the microwave snaps her out of it guiltily, and she lift a hand up to discreetly feel if her cheeks are flushed before he turns around.

"Oh my god," she chuckles when he presents her with her loaded sundae, picking off a gummibear to munch on before touching the ice cream. "This is amazing. Keep this up and I won't fit into my suit," she cracks, right before spooning up some of the goodness with a happy sigh. Self-restraint is for wussies. At least when it comes to ice cream.