But I don’t mind. Who else am I going to talk about my date with? I can’t tell Mom and Brenna I’ve met someone. Not yet. It feels too new, too uncertain, and I want to keep him my secret. At least for a little while.
I start the car and let the engine warm up as I pull my iPhone out of my purse and check the maps app. I put in the address of the movie theater where we are meeting and I hit start, ready to be guided since I’ve never been to this particular theater before. I push my sleeves up, the angel charm on my bracelet snagging on the fabric, and I carefully remove the thread that got caught on my angel.
Rubbing my thumb over the bowing guardian angel whose giant wings are spread over her in protection, I think of the person who gave this bracelet to me. Wonder yet again if he’s all right, if he’s happy, wherever he is.
I hope so.
“Do you like popcorn?”
I’m standing next to Ethan in line at the concession stand, staring up at the menu, trying my best not to stare at him. It’s so difficult because for whatever reason, he’s extra attractive tonight and he smells so good. The scent of popcorn fills the air but I barely notice it.
All I can smell is the woodsy, clean scent of Ethan.
“I love popcorn,” I say, turning to smile up at him. He’s watching me, a crooked smile curving his lips, and my breath hitches in my throat. “With extra butter,” I add weakly.
“And M&Ms?”
I frown. “M&Ms? What do you mean?”
“I always like to buy a box of M&Ms and dump them into the popcorn,” he explains as we move forward in the line. It’s long. I blame the weather. It started raining as I drove over here and I figure everyone else wants to get out of the rain, too.
“It’s good?”
“The best,” he says with absolute authority. “That mixture of salty and sweet? Delicious.”
“Then let’s try it,” I say, making his smile grow.
“You won’t regret it.” His gaze locks with mine, those dark brown eyes soft and melting, and I sort of lose myself in them for a little while. I’m loving this, loving how normal it feels. A bona fide movie date where we talk about popcorn and candy like two regular people.
I can’t remember the last time I felt regular.
When we finally get to the front of the line, Ethan won’t let me pay for a thing. He wouldn’t let me buy my movie ticket, either, though I tried. In the end, I help carry the giant soda we’re going to share and he grabs the bucket of popcorn and box of candy. I make sure to stuff a pile of napkins in my tiny purse because I saw the girl behind the counter pump all that extra butter over the popcorn. Our fingers are going to be a greasy mess.
I don’t mind, though. I’m not counting calories or worried about eating a bunch of junk food. Tonight, I’m having fun. I’m not Katherine Watts, kidnapped girl. I’m just Katie, watching a movie with Ethan.
“I hope you like action films,” he tells me as we walk into the hushed quiet of the theater. “I hear this one has lots of car chases and shoot-’em-up scenes.”
“I don’t mind.” I didn’t. My father and I used to watch these sorts of movies all the time when I was little. Die Hard was his favorite movie of all time and he could quote almost all the lines, which used to make me laugh.
But that was before. One of the few fond memories I have of my dad.
“I hear this one is funny, too.” We pause at the bottom of the stadium seating and I notice there aren’t a lot of people in the theater tonight. The movie has already been out for a few weeks and there are a couple of more recent and very popular films playing tonight, so I figure that’s where everyone is. “Where should we sit?”
“I like to sit high and in the middle,” I suggest, and he nods his approval.
He follows me as we walk up the stairs, and I feel really self-conscious. I tuck a few stray hairs behind my ear and clutch the giant soda in my other hand, hoping like crazy I don’t drop it. His closeness makes me nervous. I can feel him just behind me, his body heat radiating toward me. I sort of want to snuggle up against all that warmth and I never, ever want to do that.
I pick an empty aisle and we settle into seats in the exact center. I pull the armrest down and set the soda in the slot. Ethan looks at it, then looks at me. “I hate these armrests.”
“You do?” I frown.
He nods, pulls the soda out of the slot, and takes a sip. “I don’t mind if you want to hold it on the other side, if you don’t mind me asking for a drink every once in a while.”
“Um, okay. Sure.” I take the soda from him and stare at the straw, where his lips just were. I didn’t even think this through. We’re going to share a drink, which means my lips are going to rest on the spot where his lips just were. Which is the stupidest thought ever, because right now I sound like a thirteen-year-old girl with a massive crush. It’s just that I’ve never done this sort of thing before and it makes me feel giddy and stupid, and I . . .