Fitz arches an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yes. Really.”
He smiles and picks up the remote control. “I can make you and your date some cute cupcakes for dessert.”
“That would be amazing.”
I ruffle his hair as he flicks through the TV channels. As usual, he’s styled it with gel, creating a slight wave and a dishevelled appearance. He calls it the ‘just got out of bed’ look.
“We’re a right pair,” I say.
“Why’s that?”
“You have no problemgettinga date, whereas I suck at that part.”
“But you’re great at the sex part?” he asks.
“I wasn’t going to say that…” My face heats up. “I mean, if I werethatgood, I’d probably have a long-term girlfriend by now.”
“No…you’re not good at thetalkingpart. You get all flustered. It’s adorable.”
I sigh because it’s true. Well, the part about me being crap at talking to women is true. I highly doubt that it’s adorable. If anything, ending up in the bedroom is a welcome relief after a couple of hours of awkward conversation. If I enjoyed being around people, I’d go to clubs more—or at all—to meet women that way. I can do hook-ups. It’s turning a one-night stand into a relationship that I suck at. On the other hand, Fitz doesn’t ever do the one-night thing. He says he’s not wired that way because he’s demisexual. We both find dating hard, just for entirely different reasons.
“There’s nothing on,” he says. “Unless you want to watch a horror film?”
“You don’t like horror films.”
“I’ll get a blanket and pillow and cower while you protect me. It’ll be fun.”
I laugh. “All right.”
He turns the TV to the right channel and then fetches a pillow and blanket. I grab a couple of beers from the fridge, along with a bag of popcorn, which I empty into a bowl.
“It’s been ages since we had a proper film night,” Fitz says as he comes back and starts making himself comfortable.
I’m not sure there’s going to be enough room on the sofa for me. I knock the caps off the beer bottles and carry them and the popcorn bowl to the sofa. There’s just enough space for me to sit. Fitz can take up a lot of room for such a small guy. I hand him one of the beers and balance the popcorn on my knees.
“Lights on or off?” I ask.
“Off.”
“Are you sure?”
Fitz nods. “You’ll protect me.”
I laugh and use an app on my phone to switch the lights off. It’s fully dark outside, so the room is pitch dark apart from the flicker of the TV screen. Given that the film’s opening scene is set at night, the TV barely gives any light off.
We settle in to watch the film, both mindlessly eating popcorn until the first sudden scare when Fitz jumps out of his skin, sloshing his beer and sending his handful of popcorn flying. He huddles under his quilt and behind his pillow. I put my hand on his leg, reminding him I’m there and it’s just a film. As the deaths start getting gorier, he moves so he’s snuggled up to me rather than the opposite arm of the sofa. I honestly don’t know why he suggests watching horror films.
“Oh, that’s…” I screw my face up at a particularly disturbing section that makes even my stomach flip. “Why are we still watching this trash?”
“I thought you were enjoying it?”
I tilt my head as I try to process what’s happening on the screen. It’s grossandtasteless. “No.”
I grab the remote and change the channel.
“Football?” Fitz asks in surprise.
