My eyes wander the empty seats all around us, a heat traveling both north and south. I'm instantly grateful that most of Golden City's tweens are still in school, leaving just us and a handful of people in the otherwise empty theater.
"Pretty great, actually," I finally answer.
Liam sucks in a breath as he nods slowly, his face handsome as hell as he tightens his jaw. "What do you think?" I ask, my voice shallow.
He shifts forward another inch or two, and I do the same.
There it is again—that magnetic force.
"I think…" he says, as I watch his lips move. "The guy with the eyeliner is totally lip-syncing."
I smother laughter that threatens to escape as I turn toward the screen to search for the singer. But before I can find him, Liam slips his hand onto my thigh. My eyes dart to his.
"And the company's perfect."
"Liam…" I say, intending for my tone to come out full of warning. Instead, it's weak, and I don't move away.
"I know," he breathes, but rather than pulling back, he doubles down—leaning in further and rubbing his fingertips over the thread of my jeans. "The speed limit."
I suck my teeth and shake my head. "You're not helping," I whisper.
"I brought my kid on our first date." His fingers climb higher on my leg, and I sink further into my seat. "That feels very helpful."
My lips drop open. "Wait…" I rewire my brain so it's not solely focused on his touch. "Is this… a date?" I ask in a hurried whisper. "Was breakfast a date?"
He finally retreats, dragging a palm down his chin. "I really want to say something cool likeTrust me, you'd know if this was a date…" He shakes his head, lifting his shoulders toward his ears. "But honestly, I'm not even sure if I'd know anymore."
This time a snort really does rip out of me, and Liam—and several other spectators—whip my way.
My hand flies to cover my mouth as I shift forward toward the strangers. "Sorry," I mutter loudly. I turn back to face Liam who is staring, waiting, with brows high and arms crossed. "Sorry," I say to him this time, my fingers moving back to my lips to hide my smirk. "It's only funny because I feel the same way. I'm not exactly used to being treated… well. So, what does a true date even feel like anymore? Who knows?"
The tightness that formed in his jaw momentarily dissipates.
"Feels like I'm fifteen again, trying to navigate how the hell to do this."
I chuckle softly, grinning, not because it's funny, but because I actually think it's sort of… sweet. The idea of figuring things out together.
"We make one hell of a pair, I guess," Liam continues.
My lips tip up further. "I think so," I say honestly.
The words hit Liam, and he swallows, scooting closer like they gave him a new form of energy. He slips his hand back over my thigh, higher this time, his pinky nonchalantly grazing the sensitive spot right below where I'm begging for him most. "It definitely felt like a match to me this morning."
I suck in air, my body instantly wishing it could crawl over the seat between us and into his lap. I swallow the need. "It did, didn't it?"
He pulls away, pressing back against his seat, his fingers curling around the armrests like holding onto them is what's keeping him seated. "I wouldn't mind double checking," he says, his expression unwavering.
I part my lips to—well… say anything. But even if thoughts or words or simple sounds were possible, he wouldn't hear me.
Not as Ruthie plops back down in between us.
"What'd I miss?" she whispers, leaning closer to me. The mixture of the buttery popcorn on her breath and the citrus soap from the bathroom on her hands wafts my way, and I try my damnedest to stay wrapped up in the smell of him.
"So much," I answer under my breath without thinking, brushing my palm over the threads where Liam's was just moments ago.
Ruthie groans. "Aw man, really?"
I shake myself from the memory—from the chokehold Liam's last words have on me—enough to be present. "No," I say, laughing softly. I bump my shoulder gently into hers. "You didn't miss a thing."
