Page 86 of Colliding with Ten

“They’re incredible. All that power, just gone. Makes you think.”

She studied me. “You’re not what people think you are.”

I didn’t look away. “Neither are you.”

She smiled but got fidgety. I smiled back, hoping to calm her because I felt it too. This feeling came when we got too close or held each other’s eyes too long.

“I just think about lots of stuff. Time, for example.”

Her brow creased. “Time?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t move the same everywhere.”

She shifted, interest piqued now. “Explain.”

“Gravity bends space. The stronger it is, the slower time moves.”

The fascination grew in her eyes as I spoke, and I couldn’t stop. I liked the way she looked at me.

“Time slows down near massive objects.”

She smiled. “So, you’re saying if I stand next to you long enough, I’ll age slower.”

I deadpanned. “Can’t confirm. But I’d test the theory.”

She laughed, and it warmed my chest. God, she was funny, and her humor matched mine.

“Science pickup lines. Love it.”

I smirked, giving her a cocky wink even though I had no idea if it was even working on her. “Highly effective.”

“I doubt that’s the reason all these women want you.”

So she was thinking of other women being interested in me. I smiled at the thought. But I didn’t care what other women wanted. The only woman I wanted to want me was her. The movie screamed in the background, and she shivered. My arm settled around the back of the chair as I adjusted the throw blanket on her.

The first movie rolled into the second one, a sequel to the first, because one hour of trauma wasn’t enough for her. The plates were empty, milkshake glass half-drained and sweating on the coffee table.

She was tucked into the corner of the couch, hair mussed from all the tugging she did. I’d loosened up with one arm along the back of the sofa, one leg bent, the other outstretched. It was late, and the TV’s glow was the only light left in the room, painting her skin in cool blues and silvers.

At the next jump scare, the throw pillows shot off her and hit the floor. The bag of ice, which was now mostly water, fell to the ground. She burrowed deeper into the couch, hiding her eyes behind pillow cushions. Ayla leaned over to reach for the fallen pillow, wincing as her knee twisted.

“Leave it,” I said before she could move more.

Her eyes flicked up to mine.

I slid closer. “I’ve got it.”

Before she could protest, I bent down, grabbed the pillow, and dropped it on my lap. I patted my thigh. “Elevate it here.”

She hesitated before resting both of her legs across my thighs.

“Better?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

She settled back again, but the energy between us changed. The couch seemed smaller. My hand hovered near her shin before I forced it back to the cushion. It stayed there until I couldn’t resist. Finally, I gave in, resting my hand on her calf, fingers spreading across her soft skin. She moaned as my thumb formed a circle, then relaxed against me.

The movie wasn’t helping her nerves, or mine. The soundtrack was tense, creepily slow, the sound before someone got gutted.