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We grabbed beers at the concession stand and some snacks—popcorn for him, and Peanut Butter M&Ms for me—and went into our theater. It was totally deserted.
“Good,” Jordan said as we selected seats in the middle. “I can make comments without worrying about annoying other people.”
I squinted at him. “Wait a minute. You’re a movie-talker?”
He sat down and raised the armrest divider between our seats. “What’s wrong with that?”
“I demand absolute silence during movies,” I replied. “Even comedies. No laughing allowed.’
Jordan raised a dark eyebrow, leaned toward me, and said, “This isn’t going to work out.”
“At least we figured that out at the start!” I stole a handful of popcorn. “Now I don’t feel bad about mooching on your snacks.”
I grinned as he laughed at my stupid joke. Jordan was remarkably easy to be around. Normally I was all awkward and quiet whenever I was in the presence of a really cute guy, but I felt at ease with him. It was strange.
But in a good way.
The previews played, and then the movie started. Without the divider between us, Jordan was able to spread his legs wide and get comfortable. His knee was a mere inch away from mine, so close that I could feel the heat radiating off him. He was such a big, lumbering guy that his elbow brushed against my arm every time he grabbed a handful of popcorn.
I took a bigger gulp of my beer and was grateful that the lights were too low for him to see my blush.
Like most rom-coms, the movie was predictable. It was a second-chance romance where old high school sweethearts meet up ten years later, once they’re adults. The first twenty minutes were full of sexual tension and awkward encounters between the two protagonists.
“I don’t know what she’s thinking,” Jordan said in a not-so-soft whisper. “I wouldn’t take him back. Not after what he did.”
“But he’s changed!” I whispered back.
He shook his head doubtfully. “No way. He’s just putting on a show for her. He’s still a bad boy at heart.”
“Girls like bad boys,” I pointed out.
“Only if they can change them.”
“She’s going to!” I insisted playfully. “Just watch!”
“She’s going to get hurt again…”
Jordan made disapproving noises throughout the movie. Every time the female protagonist smiled, he grunted. When the male protagonist said something cheesy, he snorted.
“You’re starting to sound like a buffalo,” I said.
Jordan responded with an extravagant animal noise halfway between a groan and a cow’s moo. I almost spit out the last gulp of my beer from laughing so abruptly.
“Another?” he asked, reaching for my cup.
“Yes, please!”
I savored the sight of his huge, chiseled frame as he walked down the stairs to get more beer. He returned a few minutes later.
“What did I miss?” he said while handing me another plastic cup of beer.
“They just had sex,” I replied, deadpan.
He sank into his chair and stared at me. “No way!”
“Yep. It was super hot. Emma Stone showed full-frontal. And you missed it.”
Jordan sighed. “I’m going to need both beers to drown my sorrows.” He reached for my drink.
