LoveLines (9 page)

Reece shook his head and addressed the worker: “We’ll have some peanut M&Ms, a jumbo popcorn with extra butter and salt, jumbo drink, box of Skittles, nachos, and Reese’s Pieces.”

“No
, you didn’t,” Bailey said.

“Oh, I so did,” Reece replied, winking.

Bailey snatched the cup and filled it with ice and water.

“Where’s yours?” she asked, but she knew exactly what he was up to.

“My what?”

“Your drink? I assume you got this humongous cup for me,” she replied.

Reece looked at her, then at the line, then at her again. “Umm . . .”

“You assumed we’d share!” she cried, laughing. “You’ve got some nerve, buddy.
We’re not at that level in our friendship yet. And anyway, how do I know you don’t have some weird mouth disease?”

Reece hung his head.
“All right. You caught me. I thought we’d share a drink to accelerate the intimacy of our friendship.”

“‘Intimacy of our friendship
,’ huh?” Bailey joked.

She hadn’t considered that they may, in fact, be friends. He ate lunch with her nearly every day since they cleared the air about The Reel Café booty-shaking incident. He talked to her all the time.
She knew all this, but she never thought about it all in terms of true friendship. She thought he was just being a nice coworker.

“
No weird mouth disease. I swear. But if you’re uncomfortable, I’ll just get back in that long line and order myself a drink. You can tell me what happens in the first hour of the movie.” He grinned at her and waited.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she mumbled. “Come on.” She
glanced at the large tray of food in his hands.

“
I’m not touching those nachos, by the way. Have at ‘em. They’re all yours.”

Reece looked shocked. He pulled napkins from the dispenser and followed Bailey to Theater 13.

“You’ve never had theater nachos?”

She crinkled her nose.
“Nope.”

“I can’t . . . I don’t even . . . what
is the world coming to . . . you . . .”

Bailey stopped short at the theater door. Reece nearly bumped into her from behind, but he caught himself in time. Much to his chagrin.

“Anything the matter?”

“Thirteen,” she whispered.

“And?”

She shifted from foot to foot, then turned to her sort-of date.

“What movie were you going to see?” she asked.

“The one you wanted to see,” he replied.

She smiled patiently. “No, I mean before we met up. What were you planning to see?”

“This one.”

“Seriously, Reece.”

“I’m being serious. I was really planning to see this movie. Hold up.” He balanced the tray of goodies on his arm and reached in his back pocket. He pulled his ticket stub and showed her. “See?”

“Hmm,” Bailey said.

“My goal is to come out feeling intellectually superior,”
he explained, then added dismissively, “It’s a stupid game I play.”

She nodded.

“Are you superstitious or something?” he asked after a moment.

“Well . . .” She averted her eyes.

“Thirteen isn’t the scariest number on the planet,” he offered. “Although, that is around the time you hit puberty, and that mess is scary as hell.”

Bailey laughed. H
e watched for those perfect teeth. God, he loved looking at them. They were pretty when she talked. They were gorgeous when she smiled. They lit up her face like a firework when she laughed.

“I know
it’s not, like, a bad luck number.”

“Then why are we standing outside this door?”

“It’s the numbers one and three,” Bailey admitted. “I don’t have the best track record with them. Specifically when they’re reversed.”

“You’re not a fan of the number thirty-one?” Reece asked.

“Not a bit.”

“Why?”

“That, my very new friend, is not your business yet,” Bailey replied.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Reece said. “I really didn’t care anyway.”

She giggled and took a breath.

“How old are you?” he
asked out of the blue.

“Thirty-one.”

“Oh. So you’re having a bad year or something, huh?”

Bailey shrugged. “They’ve been about the same since I was six.”

Reece narrowed his eyes and studied her face. “You’re getting more mysterious by the minute. Is this a game? I’m supposed to figure out stuff based on your random clues?”

“No. But that sounds like fun,” she replied.

“You know what else sounds like fun?”

“Hmm?”

“Watching this movie with you,” he replied. “I bet we can make it in if we do it together.”

She nodded, and they entered the theater side by side, right in time for the first preview. The lights dimmed, and they walked
carefully up the side steps to two open seats in the corner of the nosebleed section.

“Great,” Bailey whispered as they settled in. “This is where people sit to make out.”

Reece wiggled his eyebrows. “Well, if I’m lucky.”

Her mouth dropped open. He thought he’d gone too far, and for a split second wished he could take it back. But then he realized he didn’t need to take anything back. She was smiling at him. Sharing in his joke. And her wink suggested the possibility
of a kiss. That was if he stayed on his best behavior.

Something very naughty is about to happen in this theater,
Reece thought, and he bit into a nacho to divert his attention.

Bailey nestled the water
in the cup holder between them. He wondered if she really meant to share. He completely dismissed her OCD when he thought of his wily plan to order a single drink. He didn’t know much about OCD apart from the fact that people who suffered from it tended to be particular about certain things. Maybe she had an issue with germs. His mind immediately went to their lunch dates—always the hand sanitizer before she ate. But then lots of people clean their hands before they eat. He washed his.

He was spinning, imagining she must have thought he was a jerk for pulling the one-cup stunt. What possessed him to do it? Did he think he was being cute? Was he that desperate to put his lips on her straw? Could he not just be a man and kiss her? That’s what he really wanted to do.

I’m fucking Reece Powell
, he thought.
And I’m in a magazine
.

His confidence was short-lived. He immediately
leaned over and whispered in Bailey’s ear, “I’ll get myself a drink. It’s no problem.”

“Nonsense,” she whispered back. “We can just share.”

He watched her grab the drink carefully with two hands and take a sip. And then she extended the drink to him. He felt a rush of something dangerously exciting in that moment, like she was offering her mouth for a kiss. He had to keep telling himself that this wasn’t a date—that he wasn’t allowed to date her. They worked together. Forget it, Reece! But, oh! He couldn’t deny the urge to knock that jumbo cup right out of her hands and pull her on top of him. He wanted to make out like a teenager. He wasn’t sure he quite remembered how to make out like a teenager, but the feeling coursed through his veins, pumped his heart, swelled his masculine desire.

Oh my God,
he thought suddenly.
I’ve got a hard-on.

“You want some or what?” Bailey asked softly.

Reece took the water and drank down a sizeable amount. He grew paranoid that she could see his hard-on, but that would be impossible. The lights were dim. There was an armrest between them.
Relax, bro. You’re cool. She can’t see your . . . oh, wait a minute. There it goes. It’s going down. Phew! Thank God. How embarrassing would that have been, right? For her to see how much she turns me on? How much I can’t stop thinking about the kind of panties she wears under those cigarette pants. The way her tits look in her button-up tops. Man, I love how she buttons them all the way up . . . wait a minute. Hold up. I mean down! Go down! Stupid dick!

“Reece!
” Bailey hissed. “You planning on drinking all of it? I might want some later.”

He didn’t realize he’d been guzzling the whole time. The jumbo cup was nearly empty.

“I . . . I ran a half marathon this morning,” he replied softly.
Dude, where’d that come from? You’re such an idiot.

Bailey raised her eyebrows.
“You ran a half-marathon before work?”

Fuck. I forgot today’s Friday,
Reece thought.

“
Uh, yeah. It’s . . . a thing I do,” he whispered. “I train pretty religiously. You have to, you know, if you wanna make good time. It’s, uh, all about the times. I’m pretty competitive, so . . .”

“What was your time?” Bailey asked.

Shit. I don’t know how far a half marathon is. Six miles? Ten? Let’s see, a seven-minute mile. Let’s just go with an hour. Hmm, maybe a little less.

“Fifty-five minutes,” he replied.

Bailey burst out laughing.

“
Shhh!” someone called from their right.

“What? Is that bad?” he asked.

“More like impossible,” she replied, still chuckling.

“Pretty impressive, huh?” he asked.

“Very.”

Reece scrambled out of his
seat and told her he was going for a refill.

“I expect you to
make good time getting back,” she teased.

He paused in the aisle and looked down at her. Cute. That was really cute.
She knew he totally lied to her—was just trying to impress her—and she was gracious about it. And playful. He was digging this chick hard, and he suddenly came to a decision. He squatted next to her seat and leaned in close.

“I’ll hurry
. Especially since I plan to kiss you when I get back.”

He watched her face. He couldn’t see the circles of deep pink he’d painted on her cheeks, but he suspected they were there. They had to be. It was too bold a statement not to evoke some kind of response. He wanted her shifting relentlessly in her chair the entire time he was gone. He wanted her heart racing. He wanted her panties the slightest bit moist. He wanted this girl.

Bailey avoided his eyes when he returned. She sat rigid in her seat with the food tray in her lap, staring at the screen. Previews still rolled while she played with her fingers. Reece couldn’t stand the tension.

“Bailey,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I said that.”

She said nothing as she passed him the tray.

“I’m a guy, you know,” he went on. “And that automatically makes me an idiot.”

She continued to stare at the screen. He shoved a nacho in his mouth. They didn’t taste as good as he remembered. He swallowed and tried again.

“I just mess around. I’m
a guy who jokes, is all.”

She lunged at him, nearly knocking over his nachos as she pressed her luscious, pink mouth to his. The initial lips-on-lips was aggressive, but nothing else about her kiss was.
She explored his mouth gently, raining light pecks in a sort of question: “Is it okay that I’m doing this?” He responded by cradling her head in his hand, trapping her against his mouth so that he could kiss her back more deeply. More aggressively.

He was
conscientious of the nacho he’d just eaten. It could go either way, but he was going for it, baby. Going for it. He teased open her mouth with his tongue, found hers immediately, like she’d been waiting the whole time, eager to share hers. She tasted like cherries. It had to be her lip gloss. That or she snuck cherries in her pocket and ate them while he was away. He grew hard again thinking of those cherries exploding on her tongue the second her teeth crushed them open.

He doubled his efforts and kissed her harder, mingling his tongue with hers until he felt her moan into his mouth. He couldn’t hear it for the crashing and banging of the movie preview, but he felt it reverberate in the back of his mouth
, and that’s all it took.

Reece Powell was in love.

Bailey pulled away. “I don’t do things like that,” she whispered.

He didn’t know how to reply.

“You probably think I’m a floosy,” she went on.

“A floosy?” he whispered back, and chuckled. “First off
, I love that you said ‘floosy.’ Second, you’re crazy. I hope you kiss me like that again.” He leaned in close. “And again and again.”

“It’s unwise,” Bailey replied.

“Shhhh!!” they heard to their right.

“It’s unwise,” she repeated softly.

“I can’t think of anything wiser than kissing you,” Reece said.

Bailey couldn’t think of anything wiser either. And she was terribly lonely and with a man she believed truly liked her.

“I just wanna keep kissing you,” she confessed.