“Sorry,” she whispered, although I have no idea why she apologized. Maybe it was because she was just too beautiful for words.
I purchased a package of red licorice and took it to the theater after her. She’d taken a seat in the middle while I sat in the back until the opening credits began, and no one else entered the place.
Suddenly, it seemed silly to sit alone in a theater with all this space around me. I got out of my seat, walked down the aisle, and turned into the row where she sat.
“Is this seat taken?” I asked. She sat a little straighter, dropping her feet from the back of the chair in front of her. Holding the popcorn bucket on her lap, she looked over her shoulder, scanning the dim, empty space and the hundred other empty seats.
“I guess not,” she teased, squinting up at me. Despite my desire to be alone, I no longer wanted to be. I took a seat next to her. The movie began, and we remained awkwardly silent. Neither of us moved. She didn’t even reach for her popcorn.
Eventually, I cracked, making a comment about something. The lack of blood, maybe. The costumes, perhaps. She flinched when someone was shot and then giggled in her surprise. Slowly, she loosened up, returning her feet to the chairback before her. We continued watching the movie, commenting on every bit of impossibility in the film.
“Licorice?” I held up the package, offering her the ropey, red strips.
“Sure,” her soft eyes met mine as she pulled the stringy candy from the bag. I watched as she bit off a piece, suddenly struggling with my thoughts. Her sweet mouth closed around the candy, and I wanted those lips around a spot on me. Her teeth nipped the end of one long piece, and I swallowed a groan as I imagined her skimming her teeth along my dick. She slowly chewed, but when she swallowed, I’d almost lost it in my shorts. Her mouth was made for sin. I just knew it.
“Gonna offer me any?” I inquired of the popcorn on her lap, but my tone dropped, my voice deep as my eyes lowered for her thighs. I didn’t want the damn popcorn. I wondered what she’d taste like instead.
“I’m not good at sharing,” she stated, eyes still on the screen while mine were held to that thigh, tan and jiggling a little with the container on her leg.
“You just took candy from a stranger,” I reminded her.
“I did, didn’t I?” she squeaked, glancing over at me. “Shiitake.” The sound of an attempted curse word on her lips made me laugh.
“What?” I choked.
“I’m trying not to swear. It’s a summer goal.”
“Huh. What else is a summer goal of yours?” I asked.
“To watch this movie,” she teased, keeping her eyes on me.
Yeah, well, my summer didn’t have a goal other than to finish it and get out of this town but plans change. And now, my goal was to get to know her.
“I’m Gavin Scott,” I stated. “I’m telling you, so we won’t be strangers.”
“I probably shouldn’t tell you my name,” she said, and I stared at her, surprised she meant it. She wasn’t going to tell me her name.
“Henrietta,” I said, and she continued staring, those blue eyes reflecting in the movie’s light. “No, Susan.”
Her brows drew together. “What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to guess your name. Violet.” I snapped my fingers. “Or Janice.”
“You’re making me sound like an old lady.” She frowned. “And you’ll never guess my name. It’s not . . . normal.”
“What is it? Bullfrog?”
“No.”
“How about Bucket?”
“What? No.” She laughed again.
“I’m just trying to come up with unusual names.”
“You’ll never guess,” she warned before music drew our attention. The movie had ended, and I wondered where the time had gone.
“Thanks for the licorice,” she said, standing with a mostly full tub of popcorn.
“Thanks for the date, Candy.” I stood as well and faced her. Her eyes widened at the name.
“Candy? That’s not my name, either.”
“Well, you look sweet to me,” I teased, and she broke into an honest laugh, one that was loud and had her bending at the waist.
“That was so cheesy,” she admitted. I had to agree, but I didn’t want her to walk away without telling me her name.
“So, Candy, seeing as you won’t tell me your name, how do I ask for a second date?”
“Was this a first?” she asked. Her eyes were innocent as she looked at me. My response was a smile.
“Guess you’ll just have to find me,” she said, her voice dropping as she teased. At least, I thought she was teasing me, but as she started walking backward out of the aisle, holding the popcorn tub like a shield before her, I realized she was serious.
“Ah, a mystery to solve? This will be my summer goal. I’ll get your name, my pretty, your tub of popcorn and a second date, too,” I warned, poorly imitating the Wicked Witch of the West and wringing my hands together. Way to frighten her, Gavin, I told myself, but a smile broke out on her face, wide and bright in the dim light of the closing credits, and I was the one gotten.
“I look forward to you accomplishing your goal,” she said, turning her back to me, spinning out of the row and rushing up the aisle before I realized what she said.
She welcomed the chase.
My thoughts return to the woman I saw on the beach earlier. Britton. It was an unusual name. Where has she been? How has she been? It’s obvious she has a child, so she must be married, maybe. The idea saddens me. It’s not that another man doesn’t deserve her, but for some reason, I wonder if she’s happy. Of course, she’s happy, though, why wouldn’t she be? More questions haunt me. I wonder if we ever could have worked somehow . . . if we could have been happy.
The probability doesn’t seem likely.
When I met her at eighteen, I was hell-bent on getting out of here.
When I saw her again at twenty-five, I only wanted to have sex with her.
What a reckless, wild weekend that had been. Her body. My hotel room. She let me do everything and anything to her.
I give into the smile curling my lips, recalling those forty-eight hours. My team played in Detroit, and after the three-day series, we had a short break. Only a few hours from the largest metro area in Michigan, Traverse City had the lake, good bars, and the prospect of getting away. It was supposed to be a quick trip in and out. I didn’t bother telling my family I was close. When I ran into Britton, all my plans changed anyway.
Take 4
Scene: The Baseball Field
[Gavin]
The following day, I’m in Traverse City most of the afternoon, viewing films, attending panels, and sitting on a few myself. It’s been exciting to be on the other side of the camera and do something I feel has been worth the time, effort, and money, despite what my agent thinks of the project.
My ex-girlfriend doesn’t support it.
Her father hates it.
Zeke Steinmann owns Steinmann Studios, and his daughter works for Imperial Sports Management. She picked me up, overrunning my first agent with promises of more sponsorships. At twenty-five, I was a baseball player on the edge of becoming someone. She hooked me up with a few modeling gigs and endorsements. A watch company. A men’s clothing store. A sports shoe. I had a face, Zoey thought, and that face attracted her as well as sealed deals. She even got me a cameo role in a movie about baseball.