“Should I brush up on my Italian?” I joke.
He’s not as alarmed by my possible joke about us getting married as an almost first date should be. “No need. I speak it fluently; I’ll do the talking for you.”
I smirk as we pause at the crosswalk. “That must be your ideal scenario. Maybe you should have just whisked me off to Italy to begin with.”
He smirks back as people crowd around us, waiting to cross. “Maybe I should have.”
We walk the rest of the way to the theater alternating between companionable silence and small talk mostly about the city. When we get there, there’s a crush of people commiserating outside before the show or arriving in cars. The theater sign is lit up and a surge of excitement hits me because I love coming to the theater, and it’s not something that’s in my budget to do regularly.
I don’t love the crowds, though. Before we make our way through this one, I slow down and turn to Calvin. “Can we take a picture in front of the theater?”
“Like tourists?”
“Exactly like tourists.”
He cracks a smile. “I suppose we can if you want to.”
He draws out his phone and we turn so the theater is our background. Since we have already been touching and leaning close from the moment we left the restaurant, I don’t feel strange about leaning in and doing a typical couple pose with him while I snap a picture with his phone.
Jackson would never let me touch his phone. I grabbed it just to hand to him once when he left it on a restaurant table and he snatched it away from me like it had physically hurt to have me touch it.
I wait for Calvin to react to my going through his photos. I’m not snooping, just checking out the three pictures I snapped to make sure I save the best one. He doesn’t seem to be anxious about my having it, though. He doesn’t seem to care at all.
I assume that means there’s nothing juicy for me to find, which shocks me considering who he is. I’m still a bit tempted to accidentally scroll back an extra swipe just to see what kinds of things he takes pictures of, but I behave myself and settle with just deleting the two inferior shots.
“That one’s the best,” I say, handing his phone back with the photo still on the screen. “Hollis has my phone. Can you send it to him so I can post it later?”
He swipes the screen, not looking at me as he asks casually, “Why does Hollis have your phone?”
“I may have harassed him to bring it.”
He cocks an eyebrow and looks at me.
I smile sheepishly. “It was before I decided to behave.”
We head into the theater and find our seats. It’s not hard. Calvin got us box seats, which I’ve never sat in before, but it’s quite nice because the two of us are the only ones in it.
“This is nice,” I say as I smooth down the back of my skirt and sit down. “I’ve never been in a box before.”
“I don’t enjoy people. This is one way to mostly avoid them.”
I smile at his logic. “You’re a ray of sunshine, you know that?”
“More like a laser beam,” he says.
“The kind that destroys planets in sci-fi films.”
“Well, that planet shouldn’t have pissed me off.”
I chuckle and set my purse down on my seat. “Do I have to ask permission to pee before the show starts?”
I’m teasing, but he answers, “Couldn’t hurt.”
I pause halfway to standing and stare at him. “Are you serious?”
He smirks, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
I sigh, roll my eyes, and make my way out to use the restroom.
The show is wonderful, and having the box to ourselves is nice. It’s over much too quickly, but to be honest, I’m already a little tired. I yawn as Calvin hauls me confidently through the crowd. He makes a path so easily. It’s like the sea parts for him as he leads me out to the sidewalk without once bumping into anyone.
Hollis is waiting with the limo. Leaving with Calvin feels effortless, when usually I vaguely dread this part of leaving the theater.
I sigh, sinking into the buttery leather seat and putting down my purse. “This is the way to do shows.”
Calvin smiles, leaning forward to grab two champagne glasses as Hollis pulls away from the curb. He opens a new bottle and pours some for each of us, then leans back in the seat beside me. “I’m glad you had a nice time.”
“I did.” I look over at him. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”
“Thank you for enjoying it,” he says, his eyes glinting with pleasure.
I take a sip of my champagne, then lean in and kiss him with traces of it still on my lips.