The Perfect First (Fulton U, #1)(30)

A pained look flashed across his face. “Don’t do that because I messed up.”

“It’s not because you messed up. It was a stupid list to begin with.” I ran my fingers down the list. “Dessert for dinner? What am I, five?” I went to throw it toward the trashcan, but he caught my hand. His fingers skimmed along the separation between my coat and gloves, landing right on the pulse point on my wrist. My blood pounded in my veins, rushing to the surface and heating up my skin.

He plucked the paper from my hand and stuck it in his pocket. “Don’t do that. Where are you going?”

“I’ve been banished from my apartment again, so I was going to see a movie.”

“I like movies.”

“You won’t like this one.”

“Try me.” He smiled back at me like a guy who’d never lost a bet in his life.

I took my phone out and looked at the showtimes for nearby theaters. That was the best way to kill some time. There was a new French indie film playing at the multiplex, a limited run for only a few days. This should be good. I smiled right back at him and selected two seats.





*



“This doesn’t make any sense,” he leaned over and whispered in my ear, the air from his lips brushing across my neck.

Focus, Seph. I took a breath and brought out the bug zapper for the butterflies. “It’s about the existential crisis of knowing you’re going to die.”

“But everyone knows they’re going to die.” He held the giant tub of popcorn toward me.

“There’s a difference between knowing it and knowing it.” I stuck my hand into the bucket Reece had bought at the concession stand and shoved the buttery, salty goodness into my mouth. I’d long since abandoned taking a single kernel at a time.

A rumble from the theater next door rattled our seats.

His head snapped up, longingly looking toward the wall.

I stared at the other people in the theater: all couples. Pairs of occupied seats dotted the rows. There were less than ten people. As the film dragged on, the distance between their heads evaporated. I craned my neck and glanced back. The three couples in the five rows behind us were all in various stages of exploring each other’s tonsils.

Settling back into my seat, I stared over at Reece. His face was a mask of confusion, but he was sticking with the movie, sticking it out because I’d chosen it.

There was a big cheer from the audience in the theater beside us. I stared at the wall. It was probably one of the new superhero movies. I’d never seen any of them. At least with these movies, you were expected to be a little lost. Over there, I’d probably be the only one with no idea what was going on. Another place where inside jokes would go straight over my head.

Leaning back in my seat, I reached into the bucket. Time slowed as our hands brushed against each other. His completely enveloped mine. The coarse rub of his fingertips on the back of my hand sent sparks shooting through my arm. I needed a bigger bug zapper.

I pulled my hand back at the same time he snatched his away. He handed over the entire tub and I was ready to be ditched at the movies. Blinking quickly, I shoveled a handful of popcorn into my mouth, not tasting a single piece. I couldn’t even go to a movie with someone without freaking them out.

The low light from his phone filled up his lap. He tapped the button on the side and put it back in his pocket. No one around us seemed to notice.

He stuck his arms into his coat and my stomach plummeted. He was definitely ditching me. My heart sped up and the old feelings of watching the other kids riding off on their bikes and leaving me in their dust rose to the surface.

Covering our shared arm rest with his arm, he whispered into my ear. “Let’s go.”

Jerking back, I stared at him, wide-eyed. “The movie’s not finished yet.”

“So? Let’s go.” He lifted his chin, tilting his head back toward the exit. His eyes blazed with the challenge.

Buckle up, buttercup. I grabbed the bucket of popcorn and followed him out. The dim lighting from the theater hallway made me feel like I was a vampire who had stepped out at noon. “Where are we going?” I whisper-shouted, trying to keep up with him.

“You’ll see.” He grabbed my hand. “Hurry up.” Popcorn flew out of the bucket as he pulled me along.

I glanced at the different names lit up in red LEDs above each theater. He walked up to the concession stand at the far end of the hallway. Taking the bucket from my hands, he handed it over to the concessions guy. “Can we get a refill? My girlfriend dropped it just as we were heading into our movie.”

The guy nodded and turned to refill the bucket.

My eyes widened and I stared at him. Reece winked and put his finger under my chin, closing my wide-open mouth.

With a newly refilled bucket, Reece guided me back down the hallway. More people flowed in from the other end, coming from the lobby. His hand guided me at the small of my back. Any time I slowed down, he added a little pressure to keep me walking.

“But the exit is that way.” I craned my neck toward the steel double doors behind us.

“I know,” he said out of the side of his mouth.

He grabbed the popcorn and pressed his other hand harder into my back. As he tugged me against his side, my shoulder rubbed against his chest. I peered up at him. His green eyes darted back and forth before steering me into the flow of traffic, turning into the theater everyone else walked into.