a result, I haven’t seen as much of them as I used to.
And my sister and my nephews don’t always have time to hang out with me either. Since Daisy told me she wants me to find someone, I sometimes wonder if she pushes me away on purpose, thinking that would get me “out there” as she likes to call it.
As if that someone would just be waiting around the corner for me.
I don’t think going to the movie theater by myself is what she had in mind though.
“What are you kids watching today? We got Transformers and Across The Universe.” Ernie walks back behind his desk to click on the outdated computer.
Chloe and I lock gazes. What are the chances they play two movies today that we binge-watched when we were younger? Maybe Transformers a bit more than Across The Universe, but they were both great movies.
“Ladies choice.” I tilt my chin at Chloe, waiting.
“Transformers? I haven’t seen that one in forever,” she blurts out, not wasting a moment to think about it while grinning at me. “Is that okay?”
I can’t help but smile back at her infectious enthusiasm. “Sure.”
Grabbing my wallet from my pocket, I turn to Ernie. “You heard the lady. Two tickets for Transformers, please.”
“Already done.”
“Thank you.”
I pay and we catch up with Ernie for a moment on how his wife is doing since she broke her hip. When we head to the concession stand, I look back at him, and he gives me an encouraging smile along with a thumbs-up. I shake my head at him and fall back in step with Chloe.
She looks at the board and puts her hand on her stomach. “I’m still pretty full from lunch.”
“Want to share a popcorn?”
She studies my face. “You don’t mind?”
“Not at all.” And I really don’t. I mean, things are good. And sharing popcorn doesn’t mean anything.
We order our popcorn and drinks, and this time, Chloe flashes her money to the teenager behind the counter before I can even get my wallet out.
Shit. I just paid for our tickets without a second thought. Old habits really die hard sometimes. At least we should be good now that she paid for the food and drinks, right?
After a bathroom break—where we switch spots outside the restroom to hold our food and drinks—we head to theater two.
The red not-so-plush-anymore seats welcome us, along with the familiar smell of stale, recycled air-conditioned air and buttery popcorn.
Chloe lets out a loud sigh.
“Same old, hey?”
She nods, and I watch her take everything in. The theater isn’t huge, but it’s still a decent size. The red seats, the old movie posters on the sides, the small cutout at the top for the projector to shine through.
Luckily, there are only a few people toward the bottom rows as I follow Chloe up the stairs and toward the middle of one of the top rows.
We settle into our chairs just as the theater turns dark. The previews start on the screen, and once we’re settled in, our gazes are focused on the screen.
A few minutes into the main movie, Chloe leans in, her arm brushing against mine. “Is the popcorn next to you?”
I nod and whisper, “Yeah, let me get it.”
I don’t know if she didn’t hear me, or if it’s one of those strange moments when you hear the other person but don’t fully process it until a few seconds later, but the result is the same. We bump heads when I lean in again to tell her and she tries to lean closer to get the popcorn.
Out of reflex, my hand shoots to her head, touching the spot she hit, feeling if she’s okay. Wanting to soothe it because I hate when she gets hurt.
Reality sinks in, my brain registering what I’m doing—what I’m thinking—and I freeze. That’s when I notice that Chloe’s been frozen this whole time, while I was touching her . . . exactly like I would have all those years ago.
Like she’s mine.
But it’s not like that anymore. It hasn’t been for so long.
Shit.
How can a simple touch feel so good?
I pull my hand back, slowly, while brushing her skin one last time like I’m an addict and she’s my drug. Like I have to feel her skin under my fingertips, hoping it will imprint there forever.
Fuck.
I’m in so much trouble.
“Sorry, you okay?” Thank goodness I have to keep my voice to a whisper, and she can’t hear how strained my words sound.
“Yeah, thanks.” Her hand goes up