Out of Bounds(20)

“So do you.”

“What were the chances we’d run into each other here?” I say as we head down the aisle.

“Pretty good, technically. Considering we talked about this being our favorite movie, and tonight’s the only time it’s playing.”

“Okay then. So those are damn good odds.”

“I’d say they’re as good as the way you’ve been playing these days.” Jason stops at a middle row and heads in first. Ally follows, then Dani, then me. I couldn’t be happier with the impromptu seating chart.

“You’ve been watching me?” I ask in a whisper as we sit in the red upholstered chairs.

She flashes me a sweet smile. “Of course I’ve been watching you.”

The stupidity of my statement crashes into me. Some part of me had been hoping she was watching me . . . for me. But it’s her job. Nothing more. Besides, why do I even want her to watch my game? We can’t go anywhere with this . . . connection. Can’t take a chance of raising any concerns for Los Angeles. Can't risk a damn thing.

“When you scrambled in the pocket in the first game, and it looked like you were about to get sacked, my nerves were frayed,” she says. “But then you dodged the defensive end . . .”

“. . . And tossed a short pass to Frayer,” I say, naming the tight end, and finding that I’m glad she watched the Knights after all. I like hearing her talk about the team.

A smile lights up her face, like she’s delighting in recalling the game. “That was a fantastic play. However, my favorite play was when you ran for twenty yards.”

I wiggle my eyebrows. “You like that? I’m fast on my feet too. No one-trick pony here.”

She squeezes my right arm. “You got the arm and the legs.” Dani offers me some of her popcorn, shifting gears. “How great is it that this theater has air-popped popcorn?”

I pat my flat stomach. “It would be a travesty if this movie theater did not have it.”

“It would be a complete movie snack disaster.”

“I generally aim to avoid all cinematic food fiascos,” I say, and it’s as if we’ve returned to our word game. Last time we played with adverbs; now it’s synonyms. I gesture to the popcorn. “This is indeed the greatest thing since I can’t touch the regular stuff.”

“Gotta watch your pretty figure,” she says with a wink.

I steal a peek at my buddy. He’s busy chatting with Ally, so I bend my neck closer to Dani, and speak softly in her ear. “But I’d rather be watching yours.” She shivers, and just like that I veer back in a direction I shouldn’t go. But we’re in a theater. Nothing dangerous can happen here, so I keep going. “Touching you.” A small gasp falls from her mouth. “Kissing those lips.” A sharp inhale. “Undressing you and spreading you out on my bed.”

She closes her eyes, breathes in, and grabs the armrest between us. I can only imagine her body is on fire right now, just like mine.

When she opens her eyes, she meets my gaze and says, “Funny. I’d rather be doing that too.”

The movie begins and I watch it with a raging f*cking hard-on.

Dani

Watching the movie next to Drew is not the toughest thing I’ve ever done. After all, I did run a marathon when I was twenty-five. I graduated from law school with honors. I also nabbed a fantastic job, beating out many applicants.

Those were all pretty tough on the scale of challenging tasks.

But this? Sitting close enough to Drew that I can smell the clean, masculine scent of him is a tall order. Add in the fact that I have a birds’-eye view of his gorgeous arms, and the challenge mounts. Even though I desperately want to wrap my hand around his bicep, then his tricep, then his forearms.

I manage to survive all that desire.

But then he does the sweetest thing. He mouths some of the lines along with the screen, including one the butler says about pretending to give the hero cocoa.

And then Drew smiles. Not to anyone. Just to himself. Because he’s happy, truly happy, watching this movie.

When Warren Beatty can’t take his eyes off Julie Christie in the car, Drew speaks under his breath, saying the lines with the film’s star about how he can’t stop looking at her.

A little flutter begins in my chest when I hear that. There’s something ridiculously endearing about a guy who knows the lines to this movie.

The flutter intensifies when he turns his face toward me, and the corner of his lips curves up. My stomach cartwheels, and I wish we were alone in this theater, because I could so make out with him right now. Like high schoolers. And I’m half hoping he drapes an arm over my shoulder, or reaches for my hand, like he did that first day we met. Only, I know that can’t happen now. And it’s not because my sister is here. I’m not worried she’d see us and blab to the press, or my boss. I doubt Jason would stand in the way either.

It can’t happen because I’m pretty sure Drew and I both know where hand-holding would lead. The same place any sort of touch seems to go between the two of us. To more.

If he touched me in any way, I’d unravel. I’d melt. I’d want all the things I can’t have.

And. I. Can’t. Have. Him.

I dip my hand into the popcorn bucket, hunting for the final remains of the snack. I grab some kernels, eat them, then reach for more. This time Drew’s big fingers brush mine, and I gasp. I cover my mouth with my other hand at the same time Drew turns to me and mouths shhh.