18
I threw him out of the room and hurriedly switched into a pair of jeans, a nice blouse, and a pair of suede boots, and then walked with him down to the student center.
It was a gorgeous spring day – warm but not hot, and blissfully free of humidity. The dogwoods were in bloom, and everything else was green and bursting with life. People were out biking, jogging, lounging on the grass, basically doing anything to soak up the great weather.
The entire way to the student center I walked beside him, talking and laughing, but I couldn’t stop from watching the way he moved. Even though he was a rocker wannabe, he moved like an athlete – long, powerful strides, confident, relaxed.
I also saw his ass in motion for the first time.
Daaaaaaaaamn.
Let’s just say his jeans were packed in all the right ways, and were tight in exactly the right places.
Added to that, I caught his scent for the first time. Well, the first pleasant scent. Not the dank beer and cigarette smell when he and Shanna came back from the 40 Watt the night before. He’d obviously showered, and he smelled clean. Soap and shampoo, with a hint of some kind of masculine deodorant, slightly spicy and musky.
I had never been so turned on by everyday bath products in my life.
The student center movie theater is a pretty nice one, though they play an odd assortment of films. Foreign movies, independent movies, artsy movies, gay and lesbian movies, old movies – if you’ve never seen it, the UGA student union movie theater has probably shown it. They occasionally show crowd-pleasers, and apparently Eastern Promises was one of them… although it fit comfortably into the ‘independent’ category, as well.
It was awesome. Dark and brutal and sad in places, but romantic and awesome overall.
Viggo Mortenson’s ass wasn’t half bad, either.
Although it paled in comparison to Derek Kane’s… which I hadn’t even seen naked yet.
And I’m never, ever GOING to, I told myself firmly as I walked out of the movie theater, trying to keep my eyes off his rear end.
“You hungry?” he asked me as we walked out into the purple-skied dusk.
I was, but I was going to say ‘no.’ We’d gone to see a movie; that was halfway innocent. But dinner and a movie was a bridge too far.
Only problem was, I didn’t speak up fast enough.
“I thought we could grab a bite to eat and talk about it,” he said. “I always like doing that with friends – going to see movies and talking about them afterward.”
Oh.
Well… if he did that all the time with friends…
I had a stray thought that maybe those ‘friends’ were girls he never called back again, but I pushed it out of my head.
“I could eat something,” I said, and felt horribly guilty as soon as the words came out of my mouth.