by Marie Harte
Work had pushed thoughts of their kiss aside, and she’d been more than productive. The fact of the matter remained she’d have to talk about that kiss sometime, and with Brad no less, because they had to work together. She didn’t know why they couldn’t get along. The past stayed in the past, didn’t it? And with their current streaming segment getting so much attention, Brad was actually helping her, though he probably didn’t realize it.
So why did she feel the need to antagonize him? To kiss him?
Her cheeks burned, as did the rest of her, recalling how good he’d felt. Yep, the return of her sex drive had arrived with no departure date in sight. So unfortunate that it took Brad Battle to rev her sad little engine.
She pulled into the apartment complex, parked, and steeled herself for Gerty’s third degree. But when she entered, she found the apartment empty. A note left on table told her Gerty had gone out with a friend for dinner, giving Avery a brief reprieve.
Pleased to relax and kick back without worrying about anything, Avery allowed herself to just be.
* * *
The next morning, she woke refreshed and ready to tackle her chores. “Yo, Gerty. You want to walk first or do chores first?”
Gerty didn’t answer. Odd.
Avery knocked on her door and, hearing no answer, pushed it open. Gerty’s unmade, unslept-in bed stared back at her. Worried, Avery shot to her phone, only to see a text from Gerty. Drank 2 much. Had 2 spend nite. Back l8r was followed by an alien and demon emojis.
Avery texted back, B ready 4 your own INTERROGATION. She signed it with a crowned girl and a zombie and received back a drunk face.
Grinning, because for once Gerty would have a story to tell that didn’t involve digital wizards and barbarians, Avery decided to tackle some chores and set out for the grocery store. She picked up enough to last the next week. Frozen chicken, fresh fish, and tons of fruits and veggies for salads and smoothies. Totally healthy, she thought with satisfaction, determined not to add chips or chocolate for once. Back at home, she did her share of the cleaning and some laundry, exercised with a long walk by the river, made her bed, organized her closet, and stared at her shoes, not sure if she could part with any of them.
Resigned to keeping them all, she closed her small closet and went back into the living room. And stared at the clock on the wall.
The hour had just reached six in the evening. Gerty hadn’t returned. Avery had done all her chores and had nothing but time on her hands.
She could get ahead on the next week’s work. Edit her articles before she gave them to Emil.
But no, because she needed a life, and that meant not working all the dang time.
Hmm. With Gerty out, Alan no doubt enjoying his weekend with his girlfriend, and her parents living large in Bainbridge, Avery was at loose ends. She had other friends, though not as close. Many of them had significant others or even kids, and she hadn’t been out with any of them in forever. No reason to call out of the blue now.
If she had a hobby, she could pursue that. She went back to the refrigerator and stared at all her healthy choices, craving chips.
The clock ticked.
She sat on the couch and laid her head back. She’d been up late the night before, and she’d gotten up extra early this morning for chore day. A nap would be great.
She stared wide-eyed at the ceiling. Not tired in the slightest.
“Hmm. Maybe I can give Gerty a break and clean the kitchen for her.”
That done, she sat back on the couch, hoping for inspiration. A glance at the clock showed she’d wasted thirty minutes, and that had been dragging out the cleaning. Feeling beyond lame, she scrolled through her phone, found movie times, and decided to hit the AMC10.
Once there, she decided on the latest horror movie, hoping it would be terrible—her favorite kind—and needing something different to do to take her mind off how incredibly dull she’d become. Without Gerty, Alan, or her mom to give her companionship, Avery had…no one.
She groaned. “I am getting a life if it kills me.”
After paying for a ticket to Slice and Dice II, she grudgingly parted with several bills to pay for the exorbitantly priced popcorn and small soda. Once inside the theater, she found a spot near the back, pleased to find the movie not all that crowded. Then again, she’d chosen Slice and Dice II because it had been out for two weeks and had terrible reviews.
The lights dimmed, and a sense of anticipation filled her. How long had it been since she’d seen a movie, anyway? She enjoyed the comfy seat, the darkness of the theater, and her favorite part—the previews—and kicked back to watch.
The movie progressed with plenty of gore, cheap effects, and a substandard plot. As she’d anticipated, not many people had opted to watch the movie, and she had room around her to stretch out. Before she knew it, she’d gobbled up half her popcorn and a third of her drink. Toasty, comfortable, and slightly dulled by the plodding film, her eyelids started to drift closed.
Her prerogative, she thought with a smile, out on her own and enjoying herself, finally.
She blinked, yawned, and sank a little lower in her seat…
* * *
Tex elbowed Mack. Brad couldn’t hear exactly what they said, seated at one end of their trio, but all the quiet murmuring annoyed him.
“Hey, shut up,” he whispered. “Slice is on the move.”
Tex chuckled and said no more.
Mack just had to say what Brad had been doing his best to ignore. He leaned across Tex in the middle and whispered, “It’s weird the survivor looks like Avery. Right?”
Tex agreed, pretending to ignore Brad. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I thought it was just me, but the too-stupid-to-live lady does look like Avery.”
“Only not as fine.” Mack nodded. “Still, I’d do her.”
“Oh, me too.”
Brad growled in a louder voice, “Would you two knock it off?”
Someone complained about the noise from a few rows down. Of maybe a dozen in attendance, they had to sit near a shusher.
“Sorry,” Tex apologized in a low voice. He hunkered down in his seat between Brad and Mack and finally settled into the movie.
Considering Brad had been doing his best to forget all about Avery Dearborn since their unforgettable kiss yesterday morning, he thought it beyond ridiculous he was watching her twin avoid a maniacal killer on-screen.
If they’d stuck with the latest superhero movie, he might have been spared more memories of Avery. Instead, he could do nothing but reinvent that kiss. He clenched his fists, too easily recalling how it had felt to slide his hand up her thigh.
Overheating, he took a quick exit to refill his soda. On the way back in, he noticed a slumped individual a few seats above his and the guys’. She didn’t seem to be moving, though he couldn’t make out much of her face covered by hair and a pair of glasses. Out of concern for the woman, he bypassed his seat and went into her row that was all but empty.
A slight snore told him she seemed okay. But he sat beside her anyway, unable to process what he was seeing while someone on-screen shrieked.
Avery Dearborn, the bane of his existence, sat three rows above him in the same horror movie, in the same theater, in Seattle. What were the odds?
He looked down at his friends, who had yet to turn around. Had they set him up? Was Avery following him around for some reason?
The noise on-screen was deafening, yet Avery didn’t move. The villain’s laughter, in a deep bass, rumbled through him, and the heroine in the film kept yelling in a high-pitched tone that put him on edge.
He studied Avery, wondering how she could sleep through the screaming. Now worried something might be wrong with her, he prodded, “Avery?” He whispered her name again. No response. If she didn’t soon wake up, he’d have to take more drastic measures. He nudged her shoulder. “Avery?”
At the same time, Slice impaled the Avery lookalike on film, and the resulting cacophony of sound as the gates of hell opened up hurt his ears.
Avery bolted up and joined the screaming. She flailed and knocked her soda onto him, drenching his pants while her popcorn shot up and out over the seats in front of her. Fortunately, no one sat close enough to get doused.
No one but him.
From behind him, a guy grumbled about scared theatergoers. Down in front, fans clapped and cheered for Slice. Brad saw his friends clapping as well and couldn’t help a snort of amusement. Sickos.
“Oh my God. What happened?” Avery breathed.
Her eyes wide behind her crooked frames, Avery stared at him, then at the screen and back again. She leaned forward and poked him in the chest. “Huh. Not dreaming.”
“No.” He sighed. “But thanks for spilling soda all over me.”
“Oh man, I’m so sorry.” She looked around her and sank lower. She whispered, “I cannot believe I fell asleep.”
“I can’t either. It’s so loud in here.”
“I’m a heavy sleeper. I must have been more tired than I thought.” She handed him some napkins. “Here. Use these to blot the drink.”
He cleaned up as best he could. “I saw someone up here not moving and wanted to make sure you were all right. I’ll leave you alone.”
Alone. Avery didn’t seem to have anyone with her. Strange. He’d figure a woman who looked like she did would have a line of guys around the block wanting her time.
“Thanks.” She gave him a hesitant smile. She had bits of popcorn on her shoulders, and her glasses remained askew. Yet she looked charming and innocent, and that put him on edge.
He seriously had something warped in his brain if he thought her innocent. Hell, she’d probably been spying on him and followed him to the theater looking for dirt.
So she fell asleep?
“Avery, come join us,” Tex whispered loudly. “And bring Brad with you.”
“Shh.” An annoyed older couple sitting at the back glared at Brad.
What the hell did I do? I wasn’t the one screaming. “Come on,” he muttered before Tex started yelling his invitation and more people blamed him for it.
He seated Avery next to Tex, meaning to go on the other side of Mack, away from her. But Tex wouldn’t let him pass.
“Move,” Brad muttered, trying not to block those few behind him from seeing.
“No. Sit down.”
“Sit down,” yelled a teenager close by.
“Who let you into an R-rated movie, kid?” Brad yelled back.
“So much talking.” “Shut up, man.” A few more people protested the interruption, so he sat next to Avery, feeling foolish.
“This is the most exciting movie I’ve been to in a long time,” she whispered to Tex, leaning closer to the big guy.
Annoyed, Brad said, “So exciting you fell asleep.”
Then she had the nerve to shush him. “Shh. Look, there goes Slice. Nothing keeps him down.”
Brad did his best to lose himself in the movie, but too aware of Avery next to him, he spent the next twenty-six minutes totally out of it. He only knew the movie ended when the audience clapped and the lights came back on.
“We’re going out for a beer,” Mack said to Avery, including her in a plan the guys hadn’t exactly mentioned to Brad. “Wanna come?”
“I don’t want to intrude.” She looked directly at Brad.
Proving she didn’t bother him, he shrugged. “Not a problem for me.” He couldn’t help himself. “Unless of course my being there bothers you.”
She stiffened and stood, looking down at him. “Nothing about you bothers me, Bradford.”
Tex snickered. “Bradford. Such a prissy name.”
“Yeah, we should all be named Tex.” Brad gave him a wide smile. “Or Roger.”
Tex flushed. “Asshole.”
Avery watched the byplay, a dimple appearing on her left cheek. “Roger’s your name?”
“No.”
Mack chuckled. “Yes, it is. Come on, Roger. Let’s go grab that beer.”
Tex sighed. “Fine. But just for that comment, I’m playing me some Blake Shelton on the way. Loud.”
“Nooo.” Mack walked away, bitching about country music. Tex continued to torment him with a compilation track of artists, and Avery chimed in with her knowledge of music, which was pretty extensive.
Brad followed, just listening, as they made their way to the parking lot.
“I’ll follow you guys there,” Avery offered once Tex had told her where they planned to go.
“It’s dark. Let me walk you to your car,” Mack offered.
Brad scowled at him, then noticed the others watching him. “What?”
“You jealous?” Mack asked, batting his eyes like a dumbass. “I mean, I’m sure Avery wouldn’t mind if you walked her to safety. Or are you more worried that Avery’s stealing me away? They all love me, you know,” he said to Avery. “I’m the most popular guy in our crew.”
“Mack, shut it.” Brad would have said nothing more, but Avery’s smirk got to him. “I’m not jealous, just worried for you.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Why’s that?” Mack asked, playing along.
“Well, see, Friday morning, after the taping, Avery and I—”
“Come on, Mack,” Avery snarled and yanked his friend away with her.
Mack followed like an obedient puppy.
“Avery and I what?” Tex asked. “I wanna know.”
Brad felt weird about outing the actual details of his altercation with Avery. Baiting her was one thing, but he’d never been the kind of guy to kiss and tell, even if he didn’t much like the girl he’d been kissing. Although, come to think of it, that had never happened before. Brad always had a connection with his dates. He didn’t do casual sex and never had.
“She and I argued.” Brad shrugged. “But Mack’s a pain in the ass, so maybe he wants to argue?”
“With a pretty girl like Avery? Hell yeah. I wouldn’t mind it myself.” Tex grinned at him. “An argument, huh? If that’s the way you want to play it, I’ll back you. But it would help if you didn’t keep staring at her ass.”
Brad snorted. “Maybe I’m looking at Mack’s.”
“Nah. We’ve both seen him nekkid. Ain’t nothing happenin’ there.” Tex laughed, and Brad laughed with him. “Now try to get your poker face back on because you need to prove to that gal you don’t care. Am I right?”
“I don’t care.” He paused. “And why does everyone keep talking about my poker face?” First Oscar, now Tex. “I don’t play poker.”
“It’s a good thing or you’d be flat broke all the time.” Tex unlocked his truck and they both got in. Then he started fiddling with his radio.
“Hey, I thought the country music was a threat for Mack.”
“Nah. It’s my pleasure to play it for you losers with no taste. And I like it loud.” Blake Shelton belted out a tune that wasn’t too bad. Though Brad worried he’d suffer hearing loss as they trucked to a nearby bar. With any luck, they’d get pulled over by the cops for a noise violation.
No such luck.
They arrived at the bar, pulling in next to Avery and Mack, who seemed to be having a lively discussion they continued on their way inside the place. Avery greeted Tex—and ignored Brad—as she chatted.
Brad told himself he didn’t care, that he didn’t feel anything even close to resembling jealousy.
“Green as a mother,” Tex muttered.
“I need a drink.” He signaled down a waitress as they snagged a table in the back.
“A big one,” Tex agreed, then slugged him with a friendly punch. “And because you were such a good sport on the way over, it’s on me.”
“What? I can’t hear you.” He
tapped his ear. “Music. Was. Too. Loud.”
Tex grinned back.
“Hey, I was a good sport.” Mack grinned. “I took one for the team by driving with Avery.”
Avery laughed. “There’s nothing wrong with being a slow, responsible driver. And everything annoying with being a backseat driver.”
“Yeah, he does that.” Tex groaned. “But Mr. Whiny over here can’t handle his music too loud. I felt like I was driving with my ninety-year-old grandmother.”
Brad pasted on a grin. “Oh, does she hate country music too?”
“Not as much as your mom. But she don’t mind if I play it when we cuddle. You know, after…?” He wiggled his brows.
Brad couldn’t help laughing. “You’re an idiot.”
“He really is,” Mack agreed. Then Mack turned to him. “Did you know Avery loves bad horror movies? And the AMC10 is her favorite theater.”
“The seats are the best,” he and Avery said at the same time.
Flummoxed, Brad cleared his throat, ignored his buddies’ catlike grins, and asked Avery, “You had no better plans for a Saturday night?”
She turned red. “What? I can’t like movies?”
“With all your friends?” he shot back, then felt that might have sounded more mean-spirited than he’d meant. “Where was the blond, Gerty?” She’d seemed pretty friendly with Oscar, though Oscar had shrugged off meeting her as if it had been no big deal.
Avery huffed. “I don’t know. We’re not joined at the hip, Bradford.”
“She says your name like you’re married,” Tex said, laughter in his voice.
She pointed a finger Tex’s way. “Keep it up, Roger.”
Tex grimaced, making Avery smile.
Brad had no idea why his heart started racing.
Mack shook his head. “Don’t look at me. I love my name. Mackenzie Revere. I go by anything. Nothing shames me.”
“Sadly, that’s true.” Brad chuckled. “Even when he walked out of the bathroom at the station, wrapped in a tiny towel, while the battalion chief and his wife were getting the tour.”
Tex leaned toward Avery. “They almost got the whole tour, if you get my drift.”
