"Done it in a theater?" he asked, opening the vehicle door.
I nodded, climbing in and buckling my seatbelt.
"No, and until you, I never even had the thought," he said, closing the door on my startled expression.
The forty-mile drive to the theater passed quickly as Nathan peppered me with questions about my childhood. He steered clear of anything painful that involved my mom, and instead focused on what high school had been like for me. I skirted around my illness and filled him in on what it had been like before I'd gotten sick, back when I thought my toughest problem was trying out for the cheerleading squad. I was still answering his endless questions when he pulled into the parking lot of the theater.
"So, what chick flick did you pick?" he asked.
"The one with the horse," I said innocently, pointing to a poster where a young girl was hugging the neck of a black stallion.
"Really?" he asked.
"Sure, why does it not look good to you?" I asked, trying to not snicker and give myself away.
"Almost as good as getting a root canal," he said, studying the poster hard as if he was hoping to find a demon hiding in it or something that would at least redeem it a little.
I doubled over laughing at the expression on his face. "I was kidding," I said between my peals of laughter. "I want to see the spy movie," I said when I was finally able to talk clearly.
"You think you're funny?" he asked, wrapping his arms around me and twirling me around.
"If you would have seen your face," I said, laughing again. "It was classic."
"Funny for you. Meanwhile, I was wondering if I poked my eye out if you would still make me watch it," he said, heading for the ticket booth.
"Lucky for you, I've never been into fluffy movies like that either."
"That's a relief," he said, purchasing two tickets.
Much to my disappointment, the movie I picked was super-crowded. We found a couple of seats together, sandwiched between two elderly couples. Nathan smiled at me wryly as we took our seats; obviously he was disappointed also.
Nathan held my hand throughout the movie, stroking his fingers across the back of my hand in a seemingly innocent way, except for the fact that I couldn't help thinking about where else his fingers had stroked me. Eventually, though, I lost myself in the twists and turns in the plot of the film.
"What did you think?" he asked once the credits were rolling across the screen and the houselights had been turned on.
"Despite the lack of horses, it was good," I joked, making my way down the steps toward the exit.
He laughed. "Oh yeah, I was quite disappointed no horses needed to be saved."
"Not to mention, there was hardly any bicycle riding," I quipped as he laughed again even harder.
"True, and no trunks with boobies in them," he said loudly, earning him a glare from the older couple that had been sitting beside him. "Too loud?" he asked me as they brushed past us, obviously disgusted with our conversation.
"Maybe a bit," I laughed.
"What time is Tressa expecting us?" he asked, glancing at his watch as we stepped out of the theater.
"Around eight," I said, zipping up my jacket against the wind that had the snow from the ground swirling. "You think Wilma is okay?" I asked, already more attached to the kitten than I probably should be.
"I bet a hundred bucks she's still sleeping where we left her," he reassured me, reaching for my hand to help me step over one of the snowdrifts. "It's six now, so we have time for a bite to eat. Do you have a preference?" he asked, changing the subject.
"Pretty much anything."
"How about steak?" he asked, plugging the information into the GPS on his phone.
"That works," I said, climbing into the vehicle.
"Great. It says there's a steak restaurant right up the road."