A Night To Remember

She started to ask why. And then she noticed the flare of heat in his eyes. Their gazes locked, held. And she suddenly understood why he hadn’t even kissed her hello.

He still wanted her.

She was tempted to pounce on him right there. To drag him to his bedroom and not let him escape until Monday. At the earliest.

Buffy sank her teeth into the hem of Nicky’s jeans and began a feisty tug-of-war, effectively shattering the mood.

Resisting the impulse to fan her face with her hand, Nicky dragged her gaze from Andrew’s and cleared her throat. “All right. I’ll wait here. Would you like me to make you a drink while you’re changing?”

“Yeah, thanks. Something strong,” he muttered, glancing from her to the dog and back. “Better make it a double.”

The moment he was out of sight, Nicky opened the freezer, took a handful of ice and held it against her flushed cheek. And then she drew a deep breath, tossed the ice into the sink and reached for a glass. She filled it with fresh ice and cola.

As tempting as it was to try to loosen Andrew up artificially, she wanted him clear-headed this evening. She wanted to know the real Andrew.

She’d get him drunk only as a last resort, she thought with a rueful laugh.

“WELL, WHAT DID YOU think of the movie?” Nicole asked several hours later as she and Andrew faced each other over cappuccinos in a trendy little coffee shop not far from the theater. “You haven’t said whether you liked it.”

“I’m still not quite sure,” he replied. “I suppose it was pretty good for its type of film.”

He had left the selection up to her earlier, and he’d been rather surprised when she’d directed him to a bargain theater that specialized in running films that were no longer first-run. The admission fee had been two dollars each. The floors had been sticky. The audience had been made up of teenagers and families for whom regular admission costs would seem rather steep.

Andrew assumed that price had no influence over Nicole’s choice of theater; surely she was aware that the cost of a regular movie ticket was mere pocket change to him. And then one of the college students working the concession stand had greeted her by name and served soda and buttered popcorn without waiting for Nicole to order, and Andrew had realized that she was a frequent patron of the establishment.

“I’ve been wanting to see that movie ever since it first hit the theaters before Christmas,” she admitted.

“Why haven’t you?”

She shrugged. “Been busy,” she murmured from behind her coffee cup.

“So you’re a Star Trek fan?”

“Oh, yeah. I missed the original series, of course, though I’ve seen most of the episodes in reruns. They’re pretty corny, but considering the time they were made, they were quite advanced. And I’ve seen all the movies starring the original crew. Some were good, others stunk. I got hooked on ‘The Next Generation’ when I was in high school. I’ve watched all the spin-offs since. I particularly like it that there’s a woman captain now,” she added in satisfaction.

That explained her familiarity with all the characters and inside jokes in the film. She’d had to whisper a few explanations to him, since he’d never gotten into the habit of watching much television, other than the news or financial reports. His viewing time had been firmly limited when he was a child. And fantasy and science fiction had never appealed to him as much as reality based programming.

And then something she’d said sank in, making him frown. “You watched in high school?” he asked, a bit startled. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-five. Did you think I was older?” She didn’t seem to be offended by his surprise.

“I don’t suppose I’d thought about it much.” Now it occurred to him that there were nine years between them. Hell, she hadn’t even had her ten-year high school reunion yet.

Did he seem old and impossibly staid to her?

He glanced at his watch. It was just after 10:00 p.m. Relatively early on a weekend, he supposed.

He didn’t imagine a movie-and-coffee date was the most exciting Friday evening Nicole had spent in a while. Yet he couldn’t for the life of him think of anything interesting to suggest they do after they’d finished their cappuccinos. When he wasn’t working late or attending an obligatory social function, Andrew was usually in bed by eleven. Alone.

Maybe he was getting staid.

He stiffened when he felt something rub his leg. And then he realized that it was Nicole, stroking the side of his leg with her foot, her actions concealed by the privacy of their back corner booth. Her foot moved slowly, from his ankle to mid-calf, then back down. Her cup cradled in her hands, she looked over the rim as she sipped from it, her dark eyes gleaming.

He swallowed, amazed at how his body was reacting to such a seemingly innocuous action on her part. But there was nothing at all innocent about the way she was looking at him.

“I, er, what would you like to do when we leave here?” he asked, his voice sounding rather strangled to his own ears.

She set down her cup and smiled. “It’s getting late. I thought we’d call it an evening.”