Page 25 of Rush

I slide them on, pick my popcorn up, and sit upright. Just as someone takes the seat right next to me.

Ares.

“For fuck’s sake,” I hiss at him. “Go away!”

“Can’t.” He shrugs. “I made a promise to my sister, and I don’t break my promises.”

“She won’t know that we didn’t sit together, you goober.”

He laughs a surprised sound. “Did you just call me a goober?”

“You heard what I said. Why are you asking me to repeat it?” I toss back the words he used on me the first time he called me Jailbird.

He laughs again. “Touché.” He settles back into his seat, setting his long legs out, clearly having no intention of moving. “And no can do, Jailbird. I have to sit here. I told you, Missy knows when I’m lying, and she’ll know if I didn’t sit with you.”

“Argh! You’re insufferable! Is it your current mission in life to make my life miserable? Because, news flash, Mr. Perfect: my life is already shitty, so there’s not much more you can do!”

His head tilts to the side, like he’s seeing me for the first time. “I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he says, totally throwing me off course.

“What?” I snap.

“Glasses. I didn’t know you wore them.”

I touch my hand to them. “Why would you? It’s not like you know a single thing about me.”

“Well, you know that’s not true, Jailbird. I know you like to crash cars in your spare time.”

“Fuck you,” I hiss.

He lets out a low rumble, the sound reverberating in his chest and straight into mine. “Jeez, the mouth on you. I’m just messing with you. But I do know something else about you.”

“What? That I like to drink? Ha-ha. Yeah, you’re frigging hilarious.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Okay, fine. Go on then; enlighten me, Mr. Perfect.” I throw out a gesturing hand. “Get it out of your system, and then leave me the hell alone.”

He leans his head over, closer to mine. His eyes are bright in the darkness, and my body stills. Every molecule that makes me up is frozen solid.

“I was going to say”—his minty breath brushes over my skin—“that you look pretty when you wear glasses.”

My mouth drops open. Then, closes. Then, opens again.

“Wha…” I eventually manage to get out.

“Hush.” He admonishes, eyes flicking toward the screen. “Movie’s starting.”

Then, you know what the cheeky son of a bitch does?

He digs his hand into my popcorn and takes a handful of it, stuffing it in his mouth, eyes smiling at me.

He’s stunned me into silence. I’m just sitting here, staring at him, goldfish gaping.

“Close your mouth, Jailbird, and watch the damn movie.”

“You look pretty when you wear glasses.”

I finally move my eyes from him to the screen to watch the movie with my heart beating a brand-new rhythm.