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With the weight of his hand warming her thigh, she didn’t care as much about the movie either. She unclenched one hand from the steering wheel and tangled her fingers with his, trying to relax a little.
It was seven thirty-five when they finally neared the theatre. Jonathan broke into a grin as the marquee came into view. “We’re seeing Blood Simple?”
“That was the plan. Sorry I screwed it up.” At least she’d bought the tickets online, so they didn’t need to worry about it being sold out.
“There’ll be previews first. We’re fine.”
Except it took five minutes of circling before she found a parking space, and another five minutes after that to walk from the car to the theatre. “Sorry,” she said again as she limped into the lobby at seven forty-five, seriously regretting the stupid heels she’d chosen to wear.
He shrugged. “I’ve seen it before.”
The usher admitted them with a judgy look. The movie had indeed started. “Sorry,” Esther whispered for the third time as they slunk to their seats.
“Stop apologizing,” Jonathan whispered back. He leaned back, gazing up at the screen, and reached across the armrest for her hand.
Okay, so maybe she hadn’t ruined the date after all.
He held her hand through the whole movie, absently stroking her knuckles. Whenever something violent happened on screen, he’d hold on even tighter. Fortunately for her, it was an extremely violent movie.
Esther’s eyes kept drifting to his face during the film. The worry lines in his forehead. The soft bump below the bridge of his nose. The inviting curve of his lips.
He was gorgeous. She couldn’t believe she’d spent so much time disliking him when she could have been appreciating the view instead. She should have called dibs for herself from the start, and saved everyone a world of trouble.
They stayed in their seats through the end of the credits, waiting until the lights came up before making their way to the aisle. Esther’s feet had enjoyed their reprieve, but now that she was standing on them again, they were not happy. She was definitely getting a blister. Maybe two.
“What’s next?” Jonathan asked as they emerged from the theatre.
“Dinner,” she said. For emphasis, her stomach made an embarrassing pterodactyl screech.
He grinned and stuck out his elbow. “Lead on, my lady.”
She wrapped her hands around his arm, relishing the opportunity to cozy up to him as they started for the restaurant. It was the closest they’d been physically since their ill-fated indiscretion, and her heartbeat quickened as she breathed him in. He didn’t smell like cigarette smoke tonight. He smelled divine. She held on tight and leaned even closer.
The restaurant she’d planned to take him to was only a block away. But as they approached, she could see people spilling out onto the sidewalk from the front door.
“Looks a little crowded,” she observed with a sinking feeling.
The wait for a table turned out to be an hour. Her stomach made another loud pterodactyl noise while they were discussing whether to stick it out.
“We’ll find somewhere else,” Jonathan said, leading her away. “I think we need to get some food in you before you turn into Low Blood Sugar Hulk.”
They kept walking, to the increasing unhappiness of her feet. The next restaurant they came to was as crowded as the last. Goddamn LA and its high concentration of foodie hipsters.
Finally, three blocks away, they happened upon an Indian restaurant that could fit them in. All the tables were taken, so they had to sit side by side at the bar. It wasn’t exactly the romantic dining experience Esther had been hoping for, but at least they were off their feet with the promise of food on the horizon.
After they’d ordered, the conversation hit a lull. Esther squirmed on her stool, trying to get more comfortable. Her feet were dangling in the air, and her shoes had slipped off the backs of her heels.
“So, that was your sister the other day,” she said, flailing for conversational topics. “The banker or the med student?”
Jonathan glanced over at her, then down at the counter. “The med student, Sarah.”
“What’s she like?”
“Competitive. Annoyingly smart. Perfect, basically.” There was more than a hint of bitterness in his tone.
“All that and beautiful too. Sounds like a nightmare.”
He offered a thin smile. “She’s great, actually. It’s just not much fun being compared to her all the time.”
