SEXT

I can feel myself nodding in agreement. “We’ll find that for her. My company will look into it and they’ll realize that she’s not just a crazy random, that she’s… that she needs help from someone.”

“At any rate.” Zayne shrugs it off, with an almost physical effort, and smiles at me once more. “No matter what, she’s off your back. There’s no way she can access anything else we say to one another; she can’t get any more photos of you to harass you or threaten your career.”

“Thank you for talking to her. I know that must have been hard.”

He catches my hand and squeezes tightly. “Not as hard as the thought of losing you. Now that we’ve finally found each other, we finally have this chance…”

I nod, eyes locked on his. “We’re not going to miss each other again. Not this time.”

His smile widens. He turns my hand over in his and lowers his head. Plants a slow, searing kiss on my palm. It feels intimate and sexy as hell all at once, like we shouldn’t be allowed to do it in public, here in this coffee shop where anyone could look at us. I tug his hand toward me and kiss his fingers too, one at a time. By the time I reach his pinkie, he’s already standing.

“Want to go home?” I ask, one eyebrow raised. “It’s a bit early for bedtime.”

He smirks in response. “Actually, Ms. Walker, I was thinking that it’s about time I took you out on a proper date.” He glances past me at the clock above the coffee shop door. No, not at that, I realize. At the marquis across the street. The little cinema that only plays 2 or 3 movies a week, depending on the week. Right now, it’s playing some film I don’t recognize, though to judge by the name, it’s some kind of mystery or action flick.

The next showing starts in 5 minutes.

“How would you feel about a movie?” he asks as he rises to his feet.

I stand beside him, and lean in to nudge my shoulder against his. “I could be lured into a dark theater with you,” I murmur, eyes bright with mischief.

He grins and taps under my chin lightly with one finger. “Don’t go getting too many ideas yet, dirty girl. The night is young.”

With that, we sweep out the coffee shop and beeline for the movie theater, our hands still wound tightly together. My night is looking up.

We take seats far at the back, expecting the rest of the theater to fill up. But by the time the previews end and the opening credits begin to roll, we’re only two of five people in the theater. The other three are dotted around the rows, the nearest person at least 4 rows in front of us and on the far side of the theater, sitting next to the aisle as though they’re worried they’ll need to do a few bathroom runs during this movie.

“What are we seeing?” I whisper, because the previews were a mix of comedy, horror, action and animated films, so I can’t even guess what genre this one will be.

To my amusement, Zayne shrugs. “No idea,” he whispers back. “I just liked the title.”

We settle in, the popcorn he insisted we buy balanced between us. Every now and again, our hands brush as we both reach into the popcorn at the same time. Every time they do, he insists on nudging my fingers. I lose count of how many times he makes me drop the handful of popcorn I’ve gripped, simply because I can’t help the small startled reaction that still races through me whenever our bare skin brushes. A spark of ignition that’s impossible to ignore.

The movie starts out with an explosion, and only gets louder from there. Turns out it’s one of those comedy-action movies, but not a funny one. After the fourth joke falls flat, Zayne takes to whispering better versions of the lines in my ear. I have to fight cracking up and turning heads across the theater—although, admittedly, there aren’t even too many heads to turn.

“Not your thing, huh?” I ask him with a smirk as he makes fun of the sixth line in a row.

“Are you kidding? I love shitty movies. The worse the better.”

We trade favorite un-recommendations for the next few scenes, but by then, it’s become clear that this movie is just ridiculous.

“Not even MST3k could save this,” I mutter, and Zayne lights up, squeezing my leg.

“You watch that too? I loved that show.”

“Wow, nerd.” I smirk at him.

“You’re one to talk,” he counters.

“Me? I am innately cool.”

“Don’t you work in a publishing house? Pretty sure all publishers have to be nerds. It’s in the job requirement right?”

“Only book nerds though. Not TV show nerds.” I roll my eyes.