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 fuckin’ 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 fuck 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.
Raiden was not so hesitant.
He drove her faster than I’d ever risk, testing her handling on the winding roads that led from my place to Willow.
This normally would frighten me, but he operated the car with a natural confidence, like he drove her every day, or like he drove NASCAR for a living. So I wasn’t frightened.
I was exhilarated.
And thus looking forward to the ride home.
We approached her, he beeped the locks and I saw the kick butt “Z” at the side illuminate in a flash when he did.
I loved my girl.
And, Bodhi and Heather notwithstanding, I was back to glad I made my decision months ago to broaden the horizons of my life.
Case in point: Raiden Miller walking me to my car at midnight on a Saturday night.
He moved me to the passenger side, but I turned my back to the car, blocking the door and looked up at him.
“You said at intermission that you thought Sunset Boulevard kicked ass. How did you feel about Chinatown?”
“You were right, that Dunaway-Huston gig was freaky, but it was a fucking good movie,” he answered.
He liked noir. For some reason, this thrilled me.
Yes, he just kept getting better and better.
Therefore, I blurted, “In case I forget,