No, that wasn’t fair to River.Kaihad broken my dick with his freaking rules.
I used to know exactly what I wanted and how to get it, but now the wiring was all short-circuited. Now I couldn’t even get it up enough to accept a blowjob from the hot twunk who was licking his lips across the room.
I gathered my towel around my waist and offered the room a reluctant shrug, then hurried away. Surrounding myself by hot, willing men who didn’t spark my interest was about as much fun as sitting there staring at the one man who did.
Torturous in different ways, but definitely not helpful.
On the way back to the office, I passed that old movie theater that River liked. Even though it was in my neighborhood, I’d never caught a flick there. This afternoon, though, the sign out front advertisedThe Matrix.
I pulled my car over. I hadn’t seen that movie since I was a teenager, and I was tempted to sneak away and watch it now. I was one of the owners of Silver Lining, and I didn’t have any more appointments on my schedule that day. What was there to stop me from treating myself to a break, just this once?
River really was getting into my head. He teased Kai and me pretty regularly about how hard we worked, and I knew he was right. Even when you loved your career, you were still supposed to take breaks.
I switched my car off and headed into the theater. It felt like skipping school or something, and I chuckled when I realized how excited I was to pick out a box of candy.
But of course, nothing in my life got to be simple right then. I turned around from the ticket counter and came face to face with River, looking just as surprised as I was.
“You’re here,” he said, then started talking quickly. “I finished all the filing early, and you weren’t around, so I decided to take off.”
“No problem,” I assured him. He was excellent at his job, so I wasn’t surprised he got it done more efficiently than my previous assistants. “I had a clear schedule, so I decided to stop for a movie.” I held my ticket in the air, like it clarified something. “The Matrix.”
River glanced to the counter, then back to me. I couldn’t make sense of the nervous hesitation that played across his eyes. Had he figured out that I was acting weird around him?
Maybe when we were drunk and playing games together, I’d been too obvious.
But there weren’t any other movies playing except for the old matinee, so it wasn’t like he had an easy excuse to get out of there.
“Can I join you?” he finally asked weakly.
I nodded, way more eagerly than I intended. “Sure!”
I went to grab snacks while he bought his ticket, my heart pounding against my ribs. The person working behind the counter recommended I upgrade to a large popcorn for a dollar more, and I practically had a panic attack trying to decide.
We’d have to share. But it would be rude to get a small and make him order his own small for much more money.
Why was I suddenly an anxious teenager? My life had turned into a very weird version of my own personal hell, one where I actually wanted…
Something I couldn’t have. I wasn’t sure what it was yet, but I definitely knew it was still a big no.
Forbidden.
I unbuttoned my suit jacket and smiled to the cashier. “Sure, make it a combo.”
I held the snacks in the air when River returned to me. He was wearing the gray trousers and white button-up that fit him so perfectly, and although he didn’t pin a flower to his shirt that day, a silver chain accented with green gems hung loosely over his chest, brightening the look.
“I got popcorn and Milk Duds.”
He smiled, and the flash of his white teeth warmed me. “Great! I love Milk Duds.”
We made awkward but friendly conversation as we found our seats. With the snacks in my hands, River grabbed the door for me, and we stood side by side in the back of the theater as we whispered to choose our seats.
He seemed a little different, although I couldn’t say how. Maybe it was how he glanced away, sometimes, meeting my eyes for just a second and then looking to the floor or staring at an oversized movie poster as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world.
He always moved with this light step, like his curiosity was pulling him in different directions. And the warm, musical laugh he offered was the same as always, natural and easy and so satisfying to hear. But I felt a shift, too.
He was warming up to me. Or at least I hoped he was, just the same as I feared it. Before, I felt like he was floating right on the edge of my reality. Watching him was intoxicating, but it felt like some part of him wasn’t really there.
Familiar, like my roommate and best friend, yet as strange and enticing as a person could be.
