Sweeter Than Candy (The Davenports 1)

The old-fashioned marque juts out from the building in a triangular shape that stands out from the ornate Art Deco piece on the building. I look both ways before crossing the road and slip inside. Clara waves. In her casual ripped jeans that show small patches of flesh, a black tank top, and a pink cardigan, her natural beauty steals my breath. Her hair surrounds her face in a curly halo of fluffy black curls. Her wide smile makes my gut clench. Despite the sorrow I revisited earlier, I can’t help but respond.

She meets me in the middle of the tiny swirly-carpeted area. “Are you ready to be freaked out?”

“The Birds is not that scary.”

“Unless you have a bird phobia.”

“You?” I ask.

She nods her head. “Oh yeah. Their beady little eyes and shrill cries freak me the hell out.”

“Then you must be a masochist coming to this movie.”

“As long as the feathered rats stay on the screen, I’ll be fine.”

I chuckle.

“Everything okay?” She leans closer and a I catch a whiff of a soft, sweet scent. “You don’t seem like your usual self.”

“I just got here.” I deflect her concern, stunned by how easily she read me. Most people can’t.

“Still.” She points. “I know you, Asher Davenport. You don’t have to share if you’re not up to it. Just know I’m here.”

“Right now, all I want to do is enjoy my time with you.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do. First stop, flavor town.” She steers me toward the concession stand, and I laugh. “Get what you want, my treat.” She winks.

“Big spender.”

“Only because you’re so pretty.” She pats my cheek.

I huff and place my hand on my chest. “I feel objectified, ma’am.”

She smirks. “Think highly of yourself, do you?”

“Am I pretty? Do people like me, yeah?” I sing a line from The Maine, and she laughs.

“I told you that you’d like them.”

“I can’t believe how long it’s been since I went to a concert.”

“You haven’t been living your life. What would you do without me, huh?” She nudges me with her elbow.

The thought of life without her leaves me cold. I’ve grown used to our daily texts, weekly outings, and her unique perspective on things. Walking away unscathed is already no longer an option. I study her as she steps up to the small counter. I inhale the scent of buttery popcorn and my stomach rumbles.

She smirks at me. “Can I get a large tube of popcorn with extra butter, a pack of Twizzlers, a large Coke, and whatever else he’d like.”

“Can I get a large Doctor Pepper, and Sour Patch Kids, please?”

“Nice choice.”

“I’m glad you approve since I know you’ll eat all of yours and some of mine.”

“Friends share, Ash.” She flashes me a dimpled grin, and I’m putty. I carry the food back, and we find our seat in the middle of the theater to maximize the best sound. We’ve developed a system. Was Micah right?

I struggle to pay attention to the movie as I study Clara out of the corner of my eye. What is it about this woman that grabs my attention in a way no other has? She jumps and grabs my arm. Laughing, I loop the arm around her and bring her to my side. She fits as if she were made for me. Her hand brushes against mine in the popcorn tub. Tingles work their way through my body.

“What?” She peers up at me.