Young Annabelle Series: Young Annabelle, the Truth About James, What My Heart Wants (9 page)

Damn it!

I grimaced at the thought of watching
Final Destination Twelve
. I didn’t like scary movies.

At all.

My body was already tensing and breaking into a nervous sweat at the mere idea of watching one alone.

“Do it,” I pressured myself quietly.

I nodded and joined the long ticket line. There were a surprising number kids lined up, all jumping up and down excitedly.

No way, they can’t be here for Final Destination!

I scanned the listings board again, searching for any children’s movies playing later.

None!

I shook my head in amused disbelief. Here I was sweating over watching a scary movie and these kids were bouncing off the walls for it.

Was I pathetic or what!

I listened in as a father and son approached the counter:
Final Destination Twelve
, they announced to the ticket agent.

I watched as the ten-year-old peered over the counter as his father exchanged money for tickets.

“Cool!” the boy yelled.

His dad laughed. “Daniel, calm down.”

“Come on Dad, we need to get a good seat!”

Come on, Dad… Come on, Mom… Come on, Charles and Katherine.

I couldn’t even imagine being that pumped for a movie.

I lived in the real world. And in the real world, I was alone.

The sight of each family made me depressed as I thought of my own family. We each did our own thing most of the time.

The line moved along. My turn finally came and I hesitated for a few seconds.

“Are you going?” someone asked from behind me.

I didn’t respond, just rushed up to the counter and ordered my ticket. Next, I bee-lined it for the concession stand where I stood with silent glee. It was time for what I’d been craving all day:
a popcorn and a regular Coke.

“Having a hard time making up your mind, Fireball?”

I froze for a few seconds before craning my neck to check behind me. I blinked back the shock of seeing him.

James!

He
was behind me, towering above me with a giant smirk on his face.

“What are you doing here?” My shocked heart began to race.

“To watch a movie, obviously,” He scowled.

What’s his problem? Douche!

I turned my focus away, deciding what size of popcorn I wanted.

“Whatever. Have a good one,” I replied and walked to the counter. I could feel him follow, close enough that I could catch his scent over the buttery popcorn.

Damn it!

Why d
id he have to smell so good?!

“Why are you always running away from me?”
He asked, amusedly.

Focus on the popcorn… Focus on the popcorn…butter…yum…James, yum…I mean, NO! Damn it!

“I’m not. I need popcorn.” I turned my head to hide the blush I knew was creeping in.

‘I need popcorn’?

Couldn’t I come up with something better than that?

“When are you going to stop lying to yourself? I make you nervous, it’s so obvious,” James declared,
smirking.

The heat burning through me cooled down just a touch at his cocky candor.

Yeah, you make me nervous, but don’t flaunt it in my face, asshole!

I tossed him a dirty look over my shoulder.

“You. Need. To. Get. Over. Yourself!”

“You need to get over me,” H
e replied, laughing.

I ignored him and ordered a small bag of popcorn and a small coke.

Food in hand, I turned back to him. “
Enjoy
.”

“
No,
you
enjoy
,” I heard him call after me before approaching the snack counter.

Don’t tell me to ‘Enjoy’ anything…..

As I entered the theatre I found myself wondering what movie he could be seeing. I climbed the stairs and sat at the very back. The three rows ahead of me were all empty, making it feel very private. If I had a mini panic attack during the movie, there wouldn’t be any witnesses. I leaned back and rested my feet on top of the chair in front of me.

This feels so good,
I thought, closing my eyes.

“Excuse me.”

My eyes snapped open to find James towering over me again. His legs were nudging mine, clearly wanting to get by.

“There are a million empty
rows you can sit in, why this one?” I asked, keeping my legs where they were.

He crossed his arms
, nudging my legs again. “I always sit in the same spot whenever I go to the movies.”

Really?

“Fine.” I dropped my legs down so he could pass through. He took one step and stopped in front of the seat beside me.

“Really?” I asked, bewildered. “
Really
? This is your spot, the one you always sit in when you come to the movies?”

“That’s right.” He stretched out his long legs, mirroring the position I’d just been in.

How am I going to get through an hour and a half with him right next to me?

I could pick another a seat…
No…this is my seat.

I’ll just have to deal with it.

I stared straight ahead and accepted it.

New thoughts began to surface.

Maybe…he likes me?
I squirmed at the thought.

We remained silent until the movie began. Then he leaned into me, whispering into my ear. Sending waves of feelings so strong, I was beginning to think I was hallucinating.

“Feel free to hold on to me if you get scared, Fireball,” James offered.

Be cool!

“I’m good.” I shrugged, my eyes not leaving the screen. I felt him turn back to the movie.

Well done!

“We’ll see,” He whispered huskily.

He was so full of himself.

*~*~*

I made good on that promise.  For the first half hour, I managed to keep a brave face at things that, had I been alone, would have had me flinching and screaming

Then the worst scene imaginable happened.

Why?

Why’d I pick this movie?

I fidgeted in my seat, sliding further down. My hand had a new home next to my eyes, saving me from experiencing the horrific deaths of the next few scenes.

I looked away from the screen and picked my popcorn bucket off the ground. James had been drinking a bottle of water gradually since the movie started. He was fine. He didn’t jump or slide down into his seat or cover his eyes.

Not once.

He’s got courage.

His eyes never close
d, even when it became gory.

I was
jealous that he could do that and I couldn’t.

I peered into my bucket of popcorn; I had a lot left. I contemplated sharing with James so it wouldn’t go to
waste.

“Want some?” I whispered, leaning the bucket towards him. I was instantly assaulted by his signature scent of shampoo and cologne.

Smells so good!

He leaned in and grabbed a few.
“Thanks.”

He
didn’t take his eyes off the screen. I turned my head back to the movie just in time to see a car pinning a girl to the wall by her neck.

“Oh God!” I whispered involuntarily, covering my eyes as fast as humanly possible. I didn’t want to see this play out to its inevitable end.

A warm hand closed over mine, trying to pull my hand from my eyes.

“Fireball, it’s over.” His whisper sent shivers down my spine.

“Are you sure?” I asked, worriedly.

“Yes, don’t worry, it’s over.”

I allowed my hand to be pulled from my face.

He didn’t let go.

I stared at our clasped hands, unsure what I should do.

Should
I let go or play dumb and continue to joyously hold onto his large hand?

I’ll take option two, please!

C
HAPTER 7

I was a fool.

And a fraud.

The mirror of truth would have reflected back the image of a little girl so delusional she’d believe shit didn’t actually stink. The tight grip of his rough, callused hand over mine sent my brain into overdrive. I was no longer on Earth as my brain pulled its entire offensive line and put them hard at work analyzing this thing that was happening between him and I.

What movie were we watching again…? 

Thank God theatres weren’t equipped with special lighting that illuminated bodily fluids. A warm layer of sweat formed between our hands, increasing by the second. My heart was pounding erratically, the handholding was too much for it to handle, or comprehend.

Unlike my body.

My body knew exactly what it wanted when his skin touched mine: to tell my brain to screw off and just go with it.

The movie theatre’s air conditioning enveloped me. I shivered and my body covered itself in goose bumps. I grabbed the ends of my cardigan with my free hand and tugged them closer to one another. As I did so, I felt my held hand get jerked off the armrest. He was pulling my hand closer to his body
. I subtly glanced at our joined hands, then to his face. He was staring fixedly at the screen, oblivious of anything monumental going on between us.

But it
was
monumental!

For me.

I was sweating like a whore in church. This was the closest thing to ‘naughty’ I had ever experienced, yet he just sat there, engrossed in the film, as if this handholding was no big deal. It didn’t affect him at all. That bothered me.

Was he some sort of experienced Casanova?

Was this an everyday thing for him, charming girls and holding their hands?

Was I, simply, the lucky girl of the week?

I tried to pull my hand from his but I felt his grip tighten, not letting me go, not even a little bit. I pulled again and he gripped my hand even tighter. I stalled in my next attempt. If I tried again his grip would be so tight it would begin to hurt.

I leaned towards him and whispered, “Let go of my hand!”

His gaze didn’t leave the screen as he answered. “Nope, I’m good.”

“You’re good? What about me? I’m not!” I hissed at him.

“Shush!”

My eyes widened.

Did this guy just shush me?

“I’m trying to watch the movie,” James continued in a whisper, eyes still glued to the screen. He probably couldn’t even look me in the eye because he felt like a fool, acting like a big idiot.

“You did
not
just shush me,” I growled, offended. I decided to take my chances and tug my arm back, maybe he was even more engrossed in the movie now – I hadn’t been watching it for the last several minutes, but every so often I heard a scream, a crash, and a body part getting sliced off – there couldn’t be that many people left to die.

“Ow!” I yelped as he tightened his grip yet again over my poor, sweaty hand. “You’re hurting me!”

“You’re in pain?” He asked softly, continuing to watch the movie play out.

“Yes,” I declared, gently moved my fingers in his grasp. “my hand’s hurting.”

He turned to look at me. “I’ll make it better.”

I was unconvinced. “Yeah, how are you gonna do that?” 

A final scream blasted from the speakers and the screen went black as the credits rolled up.

“Like this,” James informed softly.

“Like…?”

He raised our hands and shifted his grip, holding on to my wrist now. He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it. I stared at him, dumbfounded, while his lips lay for eons on my skin.

I wasn’t sure what to do.

MAYDAY! MAYDAY! MAYDAY!

Total system crash.

What’s my name again?

Where am I?

I couldn’t think of anything. The system responsible for all information had shut down. The only thing I knew was that his lips were really soft and felt so good. Sweaty tremors rolled along my body. I did my best hide the affect his lips had on me, so I stiffened and sat up straight.

“Better?” He murmured against my skin, his warm breath caressing me.

Thank God for touching… I’ve never felt like this before…

My eyelids drooped low as his warm breath lingered on my skin. My body shivered in reaction and I struggled to exhale.

Just breathe.

His lips parted from my hand, just an inch but it was enough for me to snap back into reality. My eyes jerked wide open.

Do I feel better? Honestly?

My hand felt nothing but pleasure now. If it hurt, it was a good hurt, one I’d welcome again if James always responded like that.

“Better?” I muttered slowly. My mushy brain only had the repeat function on.

“Yeah baby, better?” His tone gripped the marrow of my bones. His hold around my wrist tightened as if he didn’t want to let go, or he worried I had some intention of letting go.

Not in this lifetime and, Jesus, he called me baby, again!

The lights came back on, his green eyes pierced, shining bright under the harsh lights of the empty theatre.

Holy shit, we’re alone!
I stared down at the empty seats. His hand tightened over mine letting me know, yet again, he had no intention of letting go anytime soon.

“What are you playing at?” I stared at our clasped hands in despair
, it didn’t make sense that he’d want to touch me like this.

What does he really want from me?
My mind flitted back to our earlier meeting in the hallway at school.
Doing it?

I felt a small shiver glide along my back at the thought of the two us doing anything more than just holding hands.

I was practically falling off a cliff as it was.

If we kissed, I’d faint.

Anything else…
Doing it!

I’d just die.

“Don’t over think this,” James told me quietly, his voice sounding vaguely amused.

How can I
not over think this!

I was stuck in an analytical nightmare. The line was drawn in the sand. I needed to choose right here, right now, which side I wanted to stand on. To go with it or return to acting like an offended bitch to him.

Damn it!

It feels too good!

My body tried to convince my brain, supplying the majority of the evidentiary support it needed to proceed on this ‘just go with it’ path.

The credits finished and the screen turned off. James got up from his seat and pulled me with him. Still at the mercy of his tight grip, I trailed behind, practically jogging to keep up with his long strides out of the theatre.

Damn his legs are long…Wrapped around me and…STOP!

“Where are we going?” I asked breathlessly. I tried to shake off the almost dirty thought as he led us outside.

“I’m taking you home,” James stated, not even bothering to look behind at me.

“You are?” I practically squealed.

“Yes. Now, which way do you live?” He came to a halt on the sidewalk in front of the cinema complex.

Maybe I don’t want you to take me home!
I should have spoken my mind, but I caved instead.

“Umm left.” Even to myself, I sounded bewildered.

He pulled me to the left but we didn’t head out of the plaza, instead we went to the parking lot. With his free hand he pressed the button on the car key remote. A few feet away, the lights of a large, black SUV blinked red.

I stared in amazement.
Wow…strange that I dreamt this was his car…

“That’s your car?”

“Yes,” James answered curtly.

I felt my body cool in response to his tone. Some courtesy would have been nice, maybe more than one word snapped out in annoyance.

Yes.

Now.

Move.

You woman, me man.

What is his problem?
I fumed. Asshole was beginning to trump cute again.

What am I, a little wheelbarrow he thinks he can drag anywhere he wants?!

I tried to tug my hand back, but his grip remained tight. He stopped suddenly, a few feet away from his car, and I skidded to halt, slamming into his chest as he turned around.

“Stop trying to pull away!” He tilted his head down to order me
. I was plastered against him. The warm Florida wind breezed around us, it played with his slicked back hair, throwing it over his forehead.

There’s the James I know.
A soft giggle escaped me as I watched his hair dance. His green eyes softened at my sound. I took his relaxed expression as my chance to escape. I stepped back, off his chest, and tried to pull my clasped hand away but his hand instinctively tightened as his arm tried to pull me back in to his orbit.

“What?” James asked lightly, oblivious to my struggle to be free of his hold.

“You might need that other hand to fix that wild hair of yours,” I suggested before grinning in disbelief at his persistence to keep my hand.

A sly grin stretched slowly across his face.

Oh God! Now what?

“Don’t worry about it. I’m good with either my left or right hand…it’s always good.” He smoothed his hair away for his face with his other hand as he made his explanation.

It took me a second…

What?

I gazed down his arm to our clasped hands.

Left hand or right hand, it doesn’t matter– Oh God!

I got it.

“You let go of my hand right now!” I demanded, horrified at what he was insinuating. I jerked my hand back as if he was a flesh-eating zombie, but he just pulled me closer to his body.

Jesus, I might as well have signed a year’s lease with the way he’s keeping a hold of me. This was ridiculous!

“Let go!” I demanded, lowering my voice as I noticed my face was mere inches away from his.

This is not good!

How was this happening?

I was a strong girl, why couldn’t I pull away from him?

I know why! I know why!
The voice inside my mind called out, raising her hand enthusiastically.

My brain pointed to her for the answer.
You don’t really want to let go, you like his skin on yours, it makes you feel too good.
She sat back down and grinned slyly, knowingly.

James dragged me to the passenger side of the car, opened the door and guided me in with his hand on the small of my back. Every vein in my entire body felt a surge of electricity course through it. That small touch ignited powerful feelings that were as foreign to my body as low-fat tofu was. 

Why am I thinking about tofu?
I asked myself as I fumbled with the seat belt. It finally clicked in just before James made it to his door. My eyes took the moment to focus on the jellyroll peeking out over my jeans. I quickly sucked it in as his door opened.

Just don’t breathe!
I ordered myself. I smiled politely as he got in, buckled up, and started the car.

“What’s your address?” He started playing with the buttons on his GPS before I uttered a word.

“7890 Terrace Lane Drive,” I answered neutrally. But on the inside I was so happy my calm tone hadn’t betrayed my excitement. Now if I could only keep it up until I got home. I tugged the ends of my cardigan together so I could exhale and let my gut stay comfortably hidden behind the shield of the cardigan. I let go of the breath I was holding and felt my stomach fall off the edge of my jeans. A sly glance down proved the cardigan successfully hid the bulge. The fabric lay nicely over my jeans, hiding all my imperfections.

I breathed a small sigh of relief.

You see, its okay.

Just act calm.

Be cool.

All will be okay.

I needed the reassurance.

He smiled as he punched in the address.

Uh oh, that smile!

What wa
s he up to? 

“What?” I asked him. I wanted to know what he was thinking about now because I’d begun to notice a pattern with him: whenever he remained quiet but smiled for no reason, it wasn’t for no reason.

“You don’t live too far from me,” James answered, sounding satisfied.

I wasn’t wrong about the pattern; his mind was definitely somewhere
dirty.

“So?” What was his point? I wanted him to say aloud whatever it was he was thinking. I wanted to fight with him about it.

“It’s just something to think about…” His voice rang with possibility.

“Actually, it’s nothing to think about, so don’t get any ideas,” I replied, folding my arms across my chest.

I meant business now.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be sneaking through your window anytime soon.” His grin spread across his face. He stopped at an intersection and turned to me.