Twenty minutes later, I park my truck in the underground parking garage and make my way up to the theater level. There’s holiday music playing through the speakers and festive decorations filling the space, and I’m instantly hit with the smell of fresh popcorn.
Coming to the movie theater in the run-up to Christmas was one of Duncan’s and my traditions whenever I wasn’t deployed. We would watch whatever cheesy holiday rom-com was showing and eat our body weight in buttered popcorn. He loved it. I wasn’t a big fan of the movies, but he was. He loved anything to do with the holidays, including decorating our house with so many lights I’m sure it could have been seen from the moon. But the joy that radiated on his face was always the highlight for me. I did anything so I could see that expression on his face.
So here I am, a week before the holidays, trying to ignore the heavy ache in my chest as I purchase a ticket for one.
I might not enjoy the films or eat all of the popcorn, but it’s a tradition I’ve tried to keep alive, even though he couldn’t be.
With the ticket stub in hand, I turn to head toward the concession stand and almost walk right into someone whose face I’d recognize anywhere.
Elliot’s hands are shoved inside the front pocket of his oversized hoodie. A line of worry creases his brows until those pale green eyes meet mine. They widen in surprise. Those plush lips part on a small gasp.
“Hunter.” My name is barely above a whisper, and then he quickly rushes to add, “I’m not following you, I promise.”
I chuckle. “I didn’t think that at all. How are you doing? No more broken elevators?” I ask, offering him a smile so he knows I’m teasing.
His shoulders relax, and his laugh is quiet. “No, but my teammates haven’t let me live it down. Some of them think I did it on purpose.”
“Why would you do that?” I frown.
His nose scrunches up with a grimace. “I… uhh…” He glances around, and whatever the answer is has caused his shoulders to tense up again. I place a hand on one and give it a squeeze.
“Hey, you don’t have to tell me. But I hope you don’t let them make you feel guilty about needing help. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
He relaxes under my palm and I smile. And it takes me longer than it should for me to let him go.
He must not notice, though, as he motions to my other hand. “What are you watching?”
Glancing down at the ticket stub, I chuckle silently and shake my head. “You can’t judge me, okay? I have a reason for it.”
He holds his hand up and spreads his middle and ring fingers apart. “Scout’s honor.”
“I’m pretty sure that’sStar Trek.” I grin.
“Dammit.” He drops his hand and looks at it almost like it’s something foreign to his body. His fingers move in various gestures, but then he sighs and shoves it back in his pocket. “I can’t remember what it is, but I promise not to be judgy.”
“I’m going to seeLove in the Cabin,” I admit, trying hard to keep a straight face.
His full lips part, and then they roll inward. His eyes widen again, the sparkling fairy lights reflect in those gorgeous eyes.
“Hey, don’t laugh,” I say, but my own laughter slips out.
He slaps a palm over his mouth after he lets out a giggle, then takes a deep inhale. He drops his hand, and his lips twitch once. Clearly trying to fight back a laugh.
“I’m not laughing. I just… didn’t expect you to be the lovey-dovey romantic type of movie guy where they use shaving cream for snow.”
My head tilts in surprise. “They do?”
“I saw a video about it once when I couldn’t sleep. They mix baking soda and shaving cream or sometimes use this paper-based fiber.” He shrugs. “I find a lot of useless and random information out when I can’t sleep.”
I want to ask him why he can’t sleep, but I don’t want to ruin this moment. This lightness that’s settling between us. It’s easing the ache I was carrying in my chest with every minute that goes by.
“What were you going to watch?” I ask.
He shrugs again, glancing over to the screens that list all the showings. “I haven’t decided. I kinda came here on a whim because Blaine and Alex are doing coupley stuff with Zach and Carter.” He chews on the inside of his cheek for a second before adding, “We have the night off, as we had a game last night in Montréal, and I didn’t want to waste it sitting in my apartment, feeling left out.”
Looking down at the ticket stub, I trace my thumb over theadmission one. There’s something so magnetizing about Elliot. He has this energy about him, so light and pure, that you can’t resist being pulled in. I want to continue to see this sparkle in his eye, but it would be harsh of me to be the shadow in Elliot’s bright world.
But even as the thought crosses my mind, I shock myself by asking, “Why don’t you watch this with me?”
