Surprise flickers over his face. “Are you on your own?”
“Yeah.”
His head tips back as he laughs. The movement catches the light, almost casting a halo around his blond, wavy hair, and the sight does something to me.
“What?” I prompt.
“I’m sorry. It’s just amused me that you were gonna go see it on your own. You know it’s probably gonna be full of couples?”
“Yeah, but I was planning on getting a large popcorn to keep me company.”
He grins, and I can’t help but grin back.
“Really? You wouldn’t mind me gate-crashing your night?” he asks.
“Yeah, it’ll be good to have some company.”
And suddenly, I’m hoping he’ll say yes.
Walt has offered to come with me over the years so I’m not alone, but I always felt like I was betraying Duncan by having someone take his place. Tonight, however, I don’t feel that same sense of betrayal. Duncan would want this. Hell, if Duncan were here, he would be insisting for Elliot to join us.
I know Elliot isn’t replacing Duncan. No one could ever replace Duncan. But maybe Elliot is the shining light I need in my life.
A lighthouse to prevent me from getting lost in the darkness that I’ve been sailing in for all these years.
“Okay, only if you’re sure,” he says slowly. He chews on the inside of his lip, and the gesture only makes his full lips look even fuller. I want to trail them with my thumb or my tongue. What would he do if I bit them? Tugged them between my teeth?
Whoa, there.
“Positive.” I nod.
His gaze flicks to the concession stand. “Can I get snacks?”
“You can get whatever you want.”
There’s a spark of something like mischief in his eyes as his eyes travel down the length of my body as he murmurs under his breath, “Don’t tempt me.”
Before I can respond, he steps around me to use the self-service machine, and I smile brightly at his back. Was… was he flirting with me?
Resting my arm on the wall next to him, I lean in and lower my voice. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” he says quickly without looking up from the screen.
Once Elliot purchases his ticket, we head to the concession stand. We each get a soda and a large bucket of popcorn to share. Elliot buys a packet of M&M’s, claiming it’ll make the popcorn “epic.” We make our way into the theater and sit down. He rips the packet of M&M’s open and pours them into the popcorn before giving it a slight shake.
“I don’t think I’ve ever tried this,” I admit, grabbing a handful and throwing it into my mouth. The buttery taste of the popcorn mixed with the chocolate explodes on my tongue, and I let out a satisfied moan. “Oh, that’s good.”
His wide grin lights his face, a sense of pride in his eyes at my reaction. “It’s so good. I’m glad you like it.”
The movie starts, and we exchange amused glances at the cheesy scenes, laughing quietly under our breaths when they walk through the fake snow, which, now I think about it, does look a lot like shaving cream. Our fingers brush when we reach into the popcorn bucket at the same time, and a spark of electricity rushes down my spine as our eyes lock. They look a paler green against the bright theater screen light. I could stare into them for hours, watching how many colors they turn.
“Sorry,” he whispers, removing his hand and nudging the bucket toward me.
I grab a handful, then nudge it back and whisper, “It’s okay.”
Partway through the movie, my eyes begin to feel heavy. I assessed my surroundings as soon as we walked in here. The seats we chose means there’s a wall behind me, and nobody is sitting to my left. I’ve taken in every person in this theater, and none of them rings the alarm in my head as they pose a threat. And maybe it’s Elliot’s energy that helps soothe the storm that resides inside me.
A lighthouse.
