I glance around. There’s no one near us. They’re all paying attention to the movie anyway. I’m tempted. So damn tempted.
Reaching out, I touch her. Drift my fingers across her cheek. Hear her inhale shakily, her gaze dropping from mine. I trace the delicate line of her jaw with my thumb, slip it just beneath her chin to tilt her face up, putting our lips in perfect alignment.
I shouldn’t do this. But I have to know. The need to taste her, just once, overwhelms me completely, and I give in to the urge and brush her lips with mine.
A little sound escapes her at first touch. The softest “oh” I’ve ever heard, as if I surprised her, which I might have. I pull away from her slightly, my hand still cupping her cheek, my thumb beneath her chin, and she lifts her lids, her dark blue gaze meeting mine.
We say nothing. My heart is racing so fast I wonder if she can hear it, but I don’t care. I want to kiss her again. That first brush of lips was nothing. A tease.
Her lips part and her eyelids fall shut, an open invitation for me to kiss her again. So I do. I move closer and so does she, and then my mouth is on hers. Our mouths cling, break apart, cling again. Kiss after kiss. Simple, no tongue, but our lips are parted and we share breaths, mine fast, hers shaky.
The movie is forgotten. I’m making out with Katie in a movie theater like we’re kids, though I never bothered doing this with girls when I was younger. First, I couldn’t afford to take them to the movies. Second, we’d just find some dark corner at a party. That’s where I always made out with girls before I would usually drag them to an empty bedroom and fuck them.
It never meant anything, though. Ever.
This entire night has been like a teenage date straight out of a cheesy movie, nothing I ever experienced the entire time I was in high school. My life was shit then. Getting lost in the foster system, treading water with classwork, and throwing myself into any sport I could play. Girls weren’t a priority, but they were there and easy to lose myself in for a while.
What I’m sharing with Katie is something completely different. And though I have no fucking business leading her on like this, kissing her and treating her like this is a real date when I should walk away the minute this evening is over, I know I won’t.
I should, but I won’t.
She breaks the kiss first, dropping her head forward so my chin rests close to her forehead. I stroke her cheek and tuck a few stray hairs behind her ear, my fingers lingering when I hear her whisper, “I’m not good at this.”
“Good at what?” I shift away so she lifts her head and our gazes meet once more.
Her expression is pure embarrassment. Torment. “Kissing.”
“I’m going to have to argue with you on that.” I lean down and kiss her again, savoring the little sigh that escapes her when I do so.
Katie pulls away. “Remember what I told you earlier?” I nod at her question and her gaze skitters from mine. “I’m, uh, not big on dating. As in, I’ve never done it.”
I remain quiet. Trace her jaw with my thumb, streak it across her bottom lip. Now that I’ve touched her like this, so intimately, I can’t stop.
“I haven’t done much of anything,” she continues. “There’s—there’s so much I should tell you, but I’m afraid I’ll scare you away.” Her voice is the rawest whisper, touching something deep inside of me. She couldn’t scare me away if she tried. Makes me think that maybe we are meant for each other, as crazy as it sounds. Her horrible past doesn’t bother me, not in the way it might bother other men, because I’m a part of that horrible past. I can help her, not hurt her.
Would she see that, though? Would she agree, especially once she finds out who I really am? I don’t know, and it’s the doubt that troubles me. Worries me.
Makes me think I’m doing the wrong thing when Katie deserves only the absolute best.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me,” I start, but she’s already whispering, cutting me off.
“You keep saying that, but you deserve the truth about what happened to me. And it’s awful. Like, really awful.” She pauses, her eyes seeming to glisten in the dimness of the theater, almost like she’s about to cry. My heart cracks at the possibility. “So I totally get it if you don’t want to see me again after tonight.”
As usual she’s killing me with her words. “Jesus, Katie.” I glance around, thankful no one else is really close to us. We’re talking in whispers, and the movie is so damn loud they can’t hear us anyway, but still. A movie theater isn’t the best place to have this sort of conversation. “You honestly think I’d walk after you say something like that?”
Katie lifts her head, her watery gaze filled with the faintest bit of hope. “You should. You should definitely walk. I’m a mess,” she whispers. “I already warned you.”
“What are you saying? That you should come with a warning label?” I ask incredulously as I reach out and rest my other hand on her hip. She jumps beneath my palm and I’m tempted to let her go.