Page 37 of Before We Break

“No, I mean there’s no flavor. I like mine extra buttery.”

“So, eat yours.”

“I can’t. Lexi is sharing with Auggie.”

“What do you suggest? I’m not getting up to get more butter.”

I purse my lips. “Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“Well, too bad.” I snatch popcorn from his hands and take the bag of M&M’s out of my pocket, combining the two.

“That’s disgusting.”

“You haven’t even tried it yet.” I take some between my fingers and hold it up to his mouth. “Here.”

He quirks a brow.

“Do I need to make airplane sounds?”

“Please don’t.”

When I don’t withdraw my hand, he sighs and opens his mouth, his hot, wet lips closing around my fingers. A shiver courses through me as he pulls away.

“Not bad,” he says, his voice low and gruff.

I shove a handful of the mixture into my mouth, distracting myself from the pulse between my thighs. Not even candy-coated popcorn is going to save me this time. It’s taking everything in me not to climb into his lap, sex clause be damned. My thoughts are completely inappropriate for present company, so I shove yet another bite into my mouth.

A hush falls over the crowd as the movie finally starts. It’s a struggle to focus with my leg brushing up against Noah’s denim-clad thigh, and his hand occasionally bumping against mine when we reach for the popcorn. Eventually my thoughts quiet, and I become immersed in the movie.

When tragedy strikes fifteen minutes into the cinematic masterpiece, the first tear tracks down my cheek, and I swipe it away, sniffling. My heart breaks for the fictional dinosaur on the screen.

“Are you crying?” Noah whispers amusedly.

“Shut up, asshole. His mom just died.”

Someone in the row ahead of us shushes me and my cheeks heat.

“Sorry.” I elbow Noah in the ribs.

“Oof. What was that for?”

I lean in close, keeping my voice low. “You’re my fiancé. You should be comforting me. At least put your arm around me or something.”

It’s dark, but I don’t miss the subtle shake of his head and the way his eyes roll to the ceiling before he does the dramatic fake stretch and rests his hand on my opposite shoulder. “There. Happy, princess?”

I sink lower in my seat and rest my head against his shoulder, catching a whiff of his cologne. He smells annoyingly good—smooth and masculine with a hint of something floral underneath.

“What are you doing?”

“We went over this. I’m canoodling, remember?”

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath.

“Maybe I need to find a new dating coach. Why do you suck at this?”

This time it’s Lexi who shushes us, tossing a few popcorn kernels at me for good measure. I pluck one out of my cleavage and pop it into my mouth. It’s buttery perfection, just as it should be.