“Nice. I’ll get it set up.”
Mom hung a white sheet in here and got us this projector so we could hang out and watch movies. We do it every weekend.
“Aaaaand I brought this.” I pull out the container of food Mom made up for Easton and hand it to him.
“Oh my god, is this your mom’s fried chicken?” His eyes light up, making me laugh.
“Yup.”
“God, I love her chicken.” He opens it and groans. “Thanks,” he mumbles around a mouthful as he chews on his first bite.
Smiling, I shake my head and get the movie set up while he’s busy eating.
Once we’re ready, we shuffle closer. It’s a small space, and the older we get, the less room we seem to have.
“I brought popcorn, too,” I say, pulling the bag out.
We start the movie, a horror flick—Easton’s favorite—and settle in.
At first, I pay attention to the movie. But as time goes by, I notice Easton shifting closer and closer until... his head is on my shoulder.
The air in my lungs gets stuck, and my heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. He smells good, the scent of his deodorant tickling my nose.
Relax, Bennett. This is just two friends hanging out. Nothing more.
But then, when his hand inches closer, and his pinky brushes mine, I feel the whole world come to a stop.
The person in the movie is screaming as the killer is chasing her down, but I slowly turn my head to Easton.
He looks up at me, and our eyes lock together.
He doesn’t say a word, just stares at me.
I’ve noticed he’s been doing that a lot lately—lingering looks, extra smiles, and touching me more than normal. They’re just casual touches like a bump of the shoulder, a brush of a hand, or his arm around me longer than what is considered normal for friends.
I thought for a moment he might feel the same way about me, but I convinced myself it was just him feeling comfortable around me. I like that my family and I can be his safe place.
But as I look down at him, my heart in my throat and my body breaking out in a sweat, I’m not sure if it’s all in my head anymore.
My eyes flick between his. He doesn't look away, but instead licks his lips.
Oh fuck. Does he want me?
I want to kiss him so bad right now. But I can’t, can I?
“Bennett.” His voice is gruff and god, I like it more than I should.
My head is cloudy, my heart a mess. I inch closer towards him, giving him time to move. When he doesn’t, I take that as my sign to go for it. I’m going to kiss him.
And I do. My lips land on his, and my whole world explodes in technicolor. His lips are soft against mine, warm.
Everything inside me melts. I feel like I’m going to pass out.
He doesn’t move away, but kisses me back. That is, until he lets out a little groan, the sound seeming to snap him out of it.
He shoots up into a seated position, and I only get a second to see the pure fury on his face before his fist comes flying at me.
I grunt as my head snaps back, pain splintering through my eye and head as his fist makes contact.
