The Perfect First (Fulton U, #1)(31)

“This isn’t our theater.” My eyes widened. Someone was going to see. Someone was going to figure out we were going into the wrong theater.

“Shh. No one will know. I’ve been dying to see this movie and it looked like you were about to die of boredom in that other one, so I improvised one of the things on your list.”

We rounded the end of the narrow walkway that led into the theater. “Which one?”

His shoulder brushed against my chest and he spoke out of the side of his mouth again. “Breaking the law.” His lips curled into a smile.

I stared straight ahead as he led me to a half-empty row of seats.

“What if someone finds out?” I swung around, nearly shouting into his chest the second my butt hit the seat.

“Then we leave.”

“What if they call security on us?”

“Then we leave.” He sat back in the seat and took over popcorn-holding duties.

My leg bounced up and down and I perched on the edge of my seat, ready for an usher to come up at any second and haul us out of the theater. Maybe make us walk through the lobby shouting that we were thieves. Adrenaline pumped through my veins and I was ready for someone to show up with a flashlight shining in our eyes and the police trailing close behind. The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the previews.

Reece reached around my shoulder and tugged me fully back into my seat. “Relax, no one is coming after us.”

I sat back, the tight muscles of my body slowly relaxing, and my eyes no longer trained on the entrance to the theater, now focused on the screen. The previews played. Movie franchises I’d never heard of flashed by with their fifth or sixth installment.

The lights went down even lower and the screen was filled with more action and color than I’d seen since that one time I tried my hand at chemistry. Every explosion, quip, volley of banter, and spectacular CGI had me glued to the screen.

Every so often, I’d lean over and ask Reece a question. He was wrapped up in the movie too, but he never shushed me or shot me one of those looks, the ‘if you ask me another question I’m forcing you to write the Pythagorean theorem one thousand times’ look. Or maybe that was just my dad.

I squeezed my hand around Reece’s arm during the last battle where the reformed bad guy sacrificed himself for the hero. Wiping the moisture from my eye with the back of my hand, I looked over at Reece. He stared back at me with an odd expression on his face.

Everyone around us erupted into applause and there were even a few whistles as the credits rolled up the screen. We got up from our seats and filed out along with everyone else.

“That was better than I’d have thought.” The place radiated with a fun energy. Everyone around us talked about what the final bonus scene meant, throwing out character names I’d never heard before.

“And you got to check something off your list.” His smile made me forget my name. I wanted to feel those laugh lines against my skin, wanted to lift my head from his chest when we were both covered in sweat and have him press a kiss to my forehead.

“What do you say we mark it off one more time?” Mischief leaked into his smile, and I couldn’t hold mine back.

“Where to next, my corrupter?”





12





Reece





The music from the club shook the sidewalk. People filed in through the doors. A bouncer stood out front, checking IDs and handing out wristbands.

“I’m not twenty-one.” She dug her heels into the pavement.

Grabbing her hand, I dragged her closer. “I know. Just follow my lead.”

“He’s going to know I’m not old enough.” She spoke through clenched teeth and tried to shake my hand loose.

“He’s not.” I tugged her along.

I walked up to the front of the line. When the bouncer spotted me, his hand shot out. I clasped it and we bumped shoulders as he said, “Hey man, haven’t seen you out in a while.”

As he clapped his hand on my shoulder, my head dipped. Yeah, the partying loses its shine when you end up with two black eyes in the morning. “Been busy killing it this season.”

“Nice kicks.” He nodded toward my blue and white striped Adidas.

“Thanks, got them a few weeks ago. Listen, I’ve got a sports reporter here with me, but she forgot her ID back in her hotel. She’s doing a story about me for Sports Illustrated. Do you think you can let her in? If not, we can go back to get it, it’s just a pain in the ass. I just figured you might be able to help me out.”

I glanced over my shoulder and prayed Seph hadn’t backed herself into traffic trying to escape. He looked her up and down. Black cashmere coat, scarf expertly tucked into the collar. Dark pants and sensible footwear. Hair in intricate braids wrapped around her head hidden under that red hat. Her stuffy meticulousness was working in our favor.

I squeezed her hand to keep her from squirming and let go before he saw.

His lips tightened and he nodded, lifting the rope. “No problem, man. Head inside.”

I held out my arm, letting Seph go first. She nodded to the bouncer, but she was practically vibrating out of her skin.

The door closed behind us and she grabbed hold of my arm. “I can’t believe that worked!” She jumped up and down with nervousness radiating off her.