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“These seats sure feel a lot smaller now,” he grumbled, trying to get comfortable.
“I don’t think they’re meant for thirty-year-old asses.” I chuckled as he squirmed. He was right; he took up a lot more room than he did when we were teenagers. He was all muscles and skin. He had broadened considerably, and I felt tiny in comparison. He had always been tall, but he had buffed out in the past ten years.
“Stop wiggling, it’s about to start,” I admonished, crunching down on a nacho. The lights dimmed, and the screen lit up, and I was instantly transported to Middle Earth.
After a few minutes, Adam nudged me. I looked over to see him holding out a flask.
“What’s this?” I whispered.
“We’re not kids anymore, so that means we get better snacks.” His blue eyes sparkled in the glow of the screen.
I took the flask and unscrewed the lid, lifting it to my nose to take a whiff. “Vodka?”
“Of course,” he answered.
Without thinking twice, I tipped it back and took a long drink.
“Hey, don’t hog it,” Adam complained, and I handed it back to him.
Over the next couple of hours, we proceeded to get more than a little drunk. By the time the Battle of Helm’s Deep started, we were loudly reciting dialogue. Adam took Aragorn, and I did a damn good job at mimicking King Theoden.
“He’s my favorite.” I sighed drunkenly as Theoden gave a rousing speech to the troops.
“You like the old guys? Who knew that was your type?” Adam chortled.
I smacked his arm. “That’s not my type, dumbass.” I held out my hand. “I want some more. Hand it over.”
“There’s hardly anything left. I had no idea you were such a lush,” Adam teased, giving me the flask.
I took a drink. “Oops, I think I drank it all.” I tossed it toward him, and it clattered to the floor. “I’m sorry. Let me get that.” I leaned down at the same time Adam did, and we banged heads.
“Ouch!” I yelped at the same time Adam yelled, “Fuck!”
We both sat up, rubbing our heads.
“You have a really hard head, Ducate,” I whined.
“So do you, Galloway.” Then we looked at each other and broke into sloppy laughter. I wasn’t sure what was so funny, but I was having fun. When was the last time I had fun?
It was pretty sad that I couldn’t remember.
“Hey, can you keep it down?” a voice admonished from the back of the theater. I turned around to see the couple had come up for air, barely clothed.
“Sorry,” I shouted, and the girl shushed me.
Adam and I started laughing again. The couple, grumbling in annoyance, got up and left.
“Was it something we said?” Adam asked and started cracking up again.
“Considering the noises they were making, I can’t believe they would complain about us.” I giggled.
The sounds of battle erupted from the screen. Adam and I both turned in our seats, and like the kids we used to be, watched transfixed as our favorite story unfolded. Maybe it was the alcohol or the magic of Lord of the Rings, but I felt a warmth in my chest that I hadn’t experienced since I was seventeen.
God, I had missed him.
I looked at my former best friend, his beautiful features awash in the flickering light. I could hardly breathe. At one time, he was everything I had ever wanted.
Life is short…
Adam, sensing I was watching him, turned his head, his expression amused. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”
“You,” I breathed.
One heartbeat.
Two.
“Meg,” he murmured, his eyes dropping to my mouth.
Shit.
Fuck.
Oh, man…
He leaned forward.
I leaned forward.
And when our lips met, it was tentative. We tasted each other, unsure. Would I pull away?
Would he?
Should we be doing this?
I hated him.
Right?
But then he pressed his mouth harder against mine, and I parted my lips. At the first feel of his tongue, I lost all reason. I could blame the alcohol later, but right then, I wanted to take what should have always been mine.
With a groan deep in his throat, he pulled me toward him, my arms going around him. He kissed me like he would devour me whole. He broke away and started kissing a line from my ear down my jaw. He traced his tongue along the curve of my neck, and I shivered. Damn, the guy could kiss. I knew he’d be good at it. A lot better than he had been at thirteen. Was Adam ever bad at anything?
The armrest was in the way. I couldn’t get as close as I wanted to. My head was spinning a bit, but I couldn’t get enough of Adam Ducate. I tried leaning over the armrest, but it pressed painfully into my ribcage. And when Adam bit down on my bottom lip, my insides turned to liquid. I broke away, panting.
“What is it?” Adam asked, out of breath. “If this isn’t what you want—”
