At that, Raiden’s brows shot together before he asked, “Why the f**k did you do that?”
“Uh, sweetheart, Grams freaked. You think I want my parents to freak?” His chin weirdly jolted back when I said the word “sweetheart”, but I ignored that and kept going. “Like Sherriff Joe said, it’s over and they don’t need to know, which, for them, means they don’t need to worry.”
“Baby, not sure that’s a good plan,” Raiden noted gently.
“Sat with Grams and saw her face, Raiden, her hands shaking,” I replied and finished firmly. “It might not be good, but it’s my plan.”
He let it go for which I was grateful.
Now we were at the Deluxe after he’d paid for dinner and tipped his sister. He paid for the tickets and paid for movie refreshments we did not need after a big sandwich and Rachelle’s Colorado-wide famous seasoned shoestring fries.
I knew without worrying even a second about it that this date, without a doubt, was going well, and after our two kisses I was nervous, but excited, about what came after the movies.
But first, I got two movies.
I slid down the aisle and did it babbling, “Film noir night. My favorite night of the year at the Deluxe. And best of all, this year, Sunset Boulevard and Chinatown.”
I sat, immediately tossed my purse in the empty seat beside me and shifted up the armrest—after a huge fundraising drive, the Deluxe had updated their seats two years before. They rocked. They reclined. You could lift up the armrests. They had cupholders. They were awesome.
I reached up to Raiden and divested him of my drink and slid it in my cupholder. As he folded into his seat I relieved him of the popcorn and plonked it down in the area between us that was freed by the raised armrest.
Perfect for both of us to get to.
I also kept blabbing.
“My two favorite noirs, though Touch of Evil and Double Indemnity are up there, and Chinatown is a little creepy, you know, considering the whole Faye Dunaway-John Huston thing, which is gross. I won’t ruin it if you haven’t seen it but… serious ick. I mean, it also isn’t classic noir because it was released in the seventies, but it still kicks noir booty. And Sunset Boulevard is otherwise known as noir lush, this, obviously, according to me. But Billy Wilder may be my favorite director and screenwriter of all time. Sunset Boulevard. Double Indemnity. Sabrina. The Apartment. Some Like It Hot. Noir. Romance. Comedy. He was the master of it all. Seriously, sheer talent.”
Suddenly, Raiden yanked the popcorn from between us and kernels flew everywhere. His arm went around my shoulders. He tugged me into his side and dumped the bucket in my lap. He then lifted his hand to my jaw, tipped my head back and laid a hot, heavy, wet, long kiss on me right in the Deluxe that was not even half filled, but still.
He came up for air, which luckily gave me the chance to suck some in at the same time I was trying to control my rapidly beating heart and the pulse throbbing between my legs.
“Not pissed about the double feature anymore, seein’ as you’re so fired up about it,” he murmured.
“Okay, well… good,” I replied, my voice breathy. I got control of the breathy before I went on to inform him inanely, “You got popcorn everywhere.”
“Don’t f**kin’ care.”
There was no reply to that so I made none.
“I’m gettin’ you really like movies,” he noted.
“Yeah,” I confirmed.
His hand, still at my jaw, slid back into my hair. “Then live it up, honey.”
He tipped my head down and kissed my forehead before his hand slid out of my hair, taking its time, traveling the entire length. He curled away from me, but held me close with his arm still around my shoulders.
I focused on regulating my breath.
Then, as the lights went down, I said, “I hope you like the movies.”
“I’ll like ‘em,” he replied, and I twisted my neck to look up at him.
“You like noir?” I asked tardily, then continued, “Have you already seen these films?”
“Not a movie person, or never was. Haven’t seen either. But bein’ in the dark with you close, givin’ you something you like to do, don’t give a f**k what it is. Just glad to be doing it.”
God.
That was nice.
“You’re very sweet,” I blurted as the commercials rolled on the screen.
“No, I’m not,” he returned. “I’m selfish and goal-oriented. This shit is multitasking. Got you close, smell your perfume, feel your warmth, and later you’ll be in a good mood. All that works for me.”
To that, being an idiot, I couldn’t stop it
I kept blurting.
“You might want to try to stop being so sexy and hot and cool or you’ll give me a heart attack and then your plans for later will be completely derailed.”
I heard the smile in his voice even over the loud commercials. “Then I better shut up.”
“That would be wise.”
His arm drew me nearer and I felt the light shakes of his body, denoting his silent laughter.
I liked the feel and memorized it as I turned my attention to the screen.
I’d been to movies with my other boyfriends and none of them held me tucked tight throughout one movie, much less two.
To be fair, the Deluxe didn’t have those killer seats back then so it would be uncomfortable if they tried.
Still, they didn’t try.
If they did, I might have attempted to be less uninteresting.
Because it was amazing.
Or maybe it was just Raiden who was amazing.
Halfway through Sunset Boulevard, when he set aside the popcorn, I put my head to his shoulder. I cuddled closer, he let me and decided it was Raiden.
All Raiden.
Amazing.
Chapter Nine
Not That Kind of Girl
After two movies with a fifteen-minute intermission it was late when Raiden, his arm around my shoulders holding me close, my arm around his waist doing the same, walked us four blocks down to the car park at the edge of town.
When he’d come to my house to pick me up I’d suggested we take my car since he’d said he wanted to drive it.
He took me up on this offer, and although no one but me had been in the driver’s seat of my girl, I liked sitting beside him in my girl.
I liked more the way he handled my car. The ride was smooth; the car maneuvered unbelievably, but I wasn’t exactly a daredevil. I’d never explored the limits of her functionality.