Kiss Me Hard Before You Go (17 page)

“No, well, kind of, “ Evie fumbled her words. “It doesn’t matter,” Evie brushed her off.

“Oh yes it does,” she said and balled her hand into a fist. “Practice on here with your tongue.” She demonstrated by licking her clenched index finger and thumb.

“Ooh, Katie, that’s gross.” Evie grimaced.

She formed a devious smile. “Fine. Practice on him, then.”

Evie’s face turned rosy. “I gotta go,” she said and headed for the door. “You’ll be okay, right?”

Katie nodded vigorously. “Definitely. Have fun.”

***

Finch waited outside of the theatre, his hands tucked in his jeans pockets, and he paced back and forth, rocking on his heels. He could smell his aftershave and hoped that it wasn’t overpowering. The cheap stuff was always too strong. He tugged on his denim jacket and stared down at his ensemble: a Kiss t-shirt and bell bottom jeans. He hoped he looked nice and berated himself for being so self-conscious. He never put much thought in what he wore before, so what was different about this night? Evie, for one. She was what made him want to impress her, and he couldn’t figure out how she could have that effect on him so easily. There was no doubt that if she happened to twirl her hair or bite on her lip, he’d be a goner.

He saw her walk up and tried to remember he was supposed to be a decent guy but that darn red tube top of hers squeezed tightly against her, and her breasts bounced with each step she took. He wondered if she was wearing a bra underneath that meager piece of fabric and brushed that thought away as quickly as it had come. Her jeans fit snug and showed the curve of her hips.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hey,” he said. “You look nice.”

“Thanks. You too.” She licked her lips, and he noticed they were glossy and pink.

“You ready?” he asked. He had to quit looking at her or so help him, he’d grab her right there and then and kiss her hard.

She nodded.

He placed a bunch of quarters on the counter and slid them toward the movie attendant. She gave him a strange look, and he nodded with encouragement. “Two tickets for
Smokey and The Bandit
.”

She gave him the tickets, and Finch walked inside with Evie. “That was a lot of quarters,” she said to him as the attendant tore their tickets in half.

“It’s how I’m paid most of the time. It gets heavy sometimes,” he said, patting to his full front pocket.“Do you want anything?” He pointed to the concession stand. A bright neon sign flickered above popcorn machines, candy and soda fountains.

“A Coke,” she answered.

The line was long and he said, “How about you save me a seat, and I’ll take care of this?”

“Okay,” she said.

Finch had no idea what Evie liked, so he bought popcorn, two Cokes, Milk Duds and Dots. He’d buy the whole damn kit and caboodle if it suited her.

He put the boxes of candy in his two pockets and then stacked the Cokes on top of each other, resting them under his chin and holding them in his palm, and carried the tub of popcorn in his other hand. He felt like Dmitri trying to juggle it all at once and wondered if someone was going to offer him a dollar bill if he’d toss it all up in the air and catch it.

Evie had chosen to sit on one of the last rows toward the back of the theatre. She waved her hands up in the air so he’d see her. He precariously shuffled toward her, hoping to God that he wouldn’t drop anything. His sense of balance was good, masterful even, but balancing it all and being a nervous wreck wasn’t a good mix.

Evie saw Finch’s full hands and got up, meeting him halfway. She took the Cokes out of his hand. “Thanks,” he said.

“Are you feeding an army?” she whispered as they sat down and he emptied his pockets.

“I didn’t know what you liked,” he said.

“Dots,” she said with a grin and instantly grabbed the box from his hands. She stuck a straw in her Coke and took a sip. “Thanks.”

The theatre grew dark, and a preview for
Grease
showed. Evie leaned into Finch and whispered, “I want to see this.”

“It’s a musical,” he said with a sigh.

“Duh.”

“How can you sit through a film where they randomly break out into song and dance?”

“Shh,” a man in front of them turned around and glared at them.

“We’ll finish this debate after the movie,” Evie shot back.

“There’s no debate. Musicals suck,” he teased.

“Humph,” Evie mumbled and rolled several Dots together into one big glob. She plopped them into her her mouth and chewed.

Finch glanced at her, and Evie sensed him staring. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said with a smile and grabbed a handful of popcorn and put it in his mouth. “Want some?” He handed her the tub.

“No thank you,” she said emphatically, pushing the tub away. “I hate the smell of popcorn.”

“I guess I’m not getting a kiss goodnight then,” he joked and then rolled his eyes at his last comment. He had to take it slow with her and saying crass things like that wasn’t going to win her over. They’d only push her away. She was too smart to fall for bullshit lines.

Her cheeks and ears burned, and then her gaze lingered to his lips for a second.

He leaned in and whispered into her ear, “Sorry.”

Her stomach did a summersault, and she could feel the warmth of his buttery popcorn breath against her. She could learn to love popcorn. “It’s okay,” she barely managed to say.

“No, you didn’t let me finish,” he whispered. “Sorry you don’t like popcorn.”

The movie started and everyone in the theatre grew silent. As the Bandit sped off, trying to evade Smokey, Finch’s eyes wandered down to Evie’s hands, wondering if he should make a move for it or not. Her palm faced up and was begging for his to join it. He couldn’t understand his strong case of nerves. With any other girl, he’d be on first base and slowly pawing his way into second. He quit dwelling on it and placed his hand on top of hers. If she didn’t want it there, she’d move it away, he figured.

Evie felt the warmth of his calloused hand on top of hers. She’d only held hands with one other guy, Mark, and his hand clearly bore no resemblance to Finch’s hand—one that had labored daily for the last seven years. Mark’s had been soft like a baby’s butt and wet and sweaty. She felt repulsed holding it, and never went on a date with him again.

Maybe she was too picky, she wondered. She asked herself that question a lot. Did she seek too much in a guy? She had a running list in her head, and Finch didn’t meet all of the criteria, but at that moment, with his hand on hers, she forgot about that list. She wrapped her fingers around his hand, and their hands didn’t unlink until the movie was over.

The credits rolled, and they made their way out of the theatre and to the outside, watching as people passed them by. A few recognized Evie, stopped to stare, and gave her a strange look when they saw her talking to Finch.

“Do you want something to eat?” he asked.

“I’m full, but thanks.”

“I’ll walk you to your truck,” he said, taking her by the hand again as they headed to Gray’s truck.

Evie leaned against the truck door, and asked, “So what have you got against musicals?”

“Who breaks out into song and dance like that?”

“They do,” she said.

“Exactly,” he said. “They’re actors, not real people.”

“Anyway, I still want to see
Grease
. I love Olivia Newton-John.”

“She’s a little too folksy for me. I like rock and roll,” he said. “But I’ll take you to see it if you want,” he tried to feign indifference.

“Are you sure you could manage it?” She narrowed her eyes at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I may just have to cover my ears when they sing,” he said with a laugh.

The sound of cars passing by and people talking filled the air, and they stood there staring at each other, wondering what the other was thinking. Finch finally said, “I had a good time tonight.”

“Me too,” she said and smiled.

“I don’t get off work early for a few more days, but I was thinking we could grab some dinner,” he offered, noticing that his fingers were fidgeting inside of his jean pockets.

“Okay,” she agreed.

“I’m picking you up next time, though,” he said.

“No, that’s okay. You don’t have to.”

He sighed and brought his hand against the back of his neck and rubbed it. “I’m not going to keep meeting you somewhere like some back alley trollop. I’ll pick you up at your house,” he said with a firm voice.

“It’s not a big deal,” she said with a half shrug. “And did you just use the word ‘trollop?’”

“Yeah, so, and anyway, it is a big deal to me,” he said seriously.

“Fine,” she said with a huff. “Go ahead and pick me up then. Wait till you meet my dad,” she said with sarcasm.

“Most girls wouldn’t be pissed off the guy wanted to be a gentleman, and what do you mean by your dad? I’ve met him. He’s a nice guy.”

“He’s not going to be happy I’m going out with
you
,” she snapped.

Finch grimaced for a split second and then quickly recovered. “Well, he’ll have to get over it,” he snapped back.

“You’re a real jerk off, you know that?”

“I’m a jerk off because I want to pick you up at your house so you’re not driving home alone in the dark? Yeah, I’m a real jerk,” he scoffed. “You know what, just forget it!” He threw his hands up in the air.

“Fine,” she said and opened her truck door. “I didn’t want to go out with you anyway. Mister Smirkity Smirk!”

“Ooh, burn. Okay, Miss Queen of Insults, I’ll be sure to cry into my pillow tonight on the account of you not going out with me.”

“You...” she struggled for words. “Your face is stupid.”

“Oh yeah, well your face won first place for being the dumbest in the world!” he said, and fought hard to keep himself from laughing.

She gasped and said, “You’re mocking me!”

“Well, you kind of make it hard not to. ‘My face is stupid’? Who taught you how to insult people, because you really suck at it?” he said.

She sighed heavily and tapped her fingers against the truck door. “You suck.” She scowled at him and mumbled something.

He laughed and shook his head in amazement. “You’ve got some temper.”

“This is not funny,” Evie said, trying hard to not laugh with him, but the more she heard his loud cackle, which for some reason really pleased her, the more her grin grew wide, and she couldn’t help but smile along with him.

He stopped laughing and looked at her seriously. “I won’t take you out on another date unless I can do it the right way.” He leaned into her and placed his arm above her head. If he bent his head down, he could kiss her, and he knew she wouldn’t fight him. There was no denying the chemistry. But he was going to save it, for another time, a better time, when the whole world wasn’t watching and it was just them. He knew once his lips touched hers, it’d be with so much force, nothing could stop them, and that kind of kissing could get them arrested. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to wrestle her to the ground, tickle her, or French kiss the living daylights out of her.

“Okay,” she relented with an uneven breath. “Okay.”

“I’m following you home. They say you’re not supposed to drive when you’re angry.”

She was flustered, and her body felt warm all over. “I can drive fine. And who are
they
?”

“The same jerk offs you say enjoy breaking out into song and dance.” He helped her in the truck and closed the door. “Good night, Evie.”

Chapter 17

Gray insisted that he and Evie go out for dinner – “a fancy meal” as he aptly referred to a steak dinner. It wasn’t a nice dinner unless steak was the main ingredient.

“What’s the special occasion?” she asked him. He was dressed to the nines, no baseball cap, an ironed shirt, and a dark, never-worn-before pair of Wrangler jeans.

“Just wanted to take you out,” he said and smiled at her. “You look nice.” Evie was wearing a spaghetti strap blue floral sundress with white shoelace trim at her chest.

“Thanks. You too,” she said, and they left the house, heading toward The Strip Club.

The name alone caused anyone to chuckle, anyone with a twelve year old sense of humor, that is. Gray loved to tease that he was going to The Strip Club, waiting to see if people’s faces would turn red from embarrassment. He’d laugh and say, “They have the most succulent...” and he’d wait a few seconds for their reaction, and then would say, “steaks.”

The Strip Club was located in Chester, one town over from Haines. Most of Evie’s friends from high school went to The Strip Club the night of prom, because it was the only decent, white-table-clothed restaurant within miles. Evie had only ever been there with Gray and didn’t see what the hype was all about. They could easily buy steak from Cooper, and it’d cost them half the price.

A flicker of dim light shone from the table-top lamp that sat on their table. Yellow bubbled glass walls divided each dark wooden round booth. Every booth was semi-circled with red tapestry seating and faced a black grand piano. A musician played tunes only Gray recognized, and he hummed along, reminiscing.