Wedding Date (Dating #6) - Monica Murphy Page 0,24

cough, nearly choking on the popcorn I’m still eating. “So.” Cough cough. “Delicious.”

Again, I’m an idiot. What is this woman doing to me? Why am I suddenly having these feelings?

There’s nothing sudden about these feelings, jackass. You’ve just been suppressing them. You’ve been attracted to Kelsey for a while. For months. You have a favorite porn star who looks like her, for God’s sake. Face your fucking feelings for once and tell her.

Nope. Can’t do that.

We watch the movie in silence, the only sound munching popcorn or one of us sipping our Cokes. I’m trying to concentrate on the storyline, but I can’t. Kelsey is too damn distracting. The way her brows lower when a scene from the movie becomes tense, her full lips pursed. The little squeal she makes when a knife arcs through the air, landing right in a gasping woman’s chest.

I cover my eyes a little too late when that happens. Scary movies freak me out. When I was ten, a friend of mine invited me over to spend the night. He was a horror movie lover. He learned to appreciate them thanks to his parents, who also had a strange fascination with them. We all settled in to watch a movie called The Fog.

That shit scarred me for life. Vengeful sea ghosts out to right the wrongs brought against them one hundred years later by slaughtering as many people as possible during the course of one night? No thanks. Ten-year-old me was freaking the hell out.

My friend thought it was hilarious. I tried to play it off. Until I woke up screaming at two in the morning and my friend’s mom had to call my mom, who came and picked me up.

I keep telling myself this shit isn’t real, but I lose my appetite. No more popcorn for me. I try to think of other things. Like the beauty that is Kelsey. But my beauty is also totally into this movie, and she’s enjoying every single minute of it too.

The little sadist.

Slice goes the knife as the killer stabs the shit out of some innocent dude, the blade wielded a little too close to that guy’s junk to make me comfortable. Unable to help myself, I slap my hands over my eyes, praying the gruesome scene is almost over soon.

Kelsey starts laughing, and I know I’ve been caught.

“You’re covering your eyes like a little kid,” she says gleefully.

I spread two fingers wide so I can look at her. “This shit is scary.”

“Oh, come on. It’s hilarious. She just sliced off that guy’s penis.” Kelsey laughs some more, her eyes dancing.

I’m too focused on the fact that she said the word penis. And how she found it funny that he got it sliced off. I don’t care if it’s a movie, she seems way too happy to have witnessed that.

“You still hating on men?” I ask her, letting my hands drop.

The movie is forgotten. “What do you mean?”

“Is that why you’re loving this movie? It seems like our killer is hell bent on making everyone suffer.” I’m only just now coming to this conclusion.

Kelsey shrugs. “I don’t hate you.”

It’s the way she says it. The vulnerable tone of her voice. The soft look on her face. The glow in her eyes. We stare at each other a moment too long, the guy who just got carved up screaming in agony still and I do something completely out of character.

I rest my hand on her knee. Briefly.

Curve my fingers around so they’re sliding up her inner thigh. Slowly.

My gaze never strays from hers, and regret smacks me in the chest for only a moment.

She doesn’t stop me. She doesn’t say no. She doesn’t push my hand away from her.

Holy.

Shit.

Nine

Kelsey

One second I’m laughing about the movie, way too into the scene where she slices off that pathetic dude’s dick, and the next…

The next…

Theo’s touching my knee. My thigh. His fingers are firm. He knows what he’s doing. His touch is—not friendly. Not friendly at all.

It’s…sexual.

My entire body goes on instant alert. Heat blooms in my chest. In other body parts too. My mouth goes dry and I tilt my head down, watching as his hand creeps up, getting closer and closer to where I start to throb.

Throb for him.

Oh my God.

What is even happening right now? I could blame the alcohol, but I don’t think that’s the problem. I’m definitely more sober than I was at the restaurant. Maybe we’ve been building up to this moment for months and