by Linda Kage
“Thank God,” she hissed to herself and promptly went back to facing the front of the cinema, staring determinedly at the ads flashing across the screen.
I faced the front too, ready to ignore her right back.
Except the guilt kept creeping in. I really had crossed the line. I began to bob my knee, unable to bear it.
Around us, the lights dimmed and the commercials faded so previews could begin. The view I had of Yellow in my peripheral vision went shadowed but I could still feel her there next to me, more brilliantly than I’d been aware of anything in a long time.
Against my will, I turned to look at her. The lights from the previews reflected onto her face, showing me how well she knew I was staring. She tipped her chin up defiantly and tightened her lips to keep from reacting.
“I really want to see this movie too,” I leaned in to whisper, hoping she could sense the apology hidden in my words.
When she continued to stubbornly ignore me, I sighed and just blurted, “I’m sorry for being an ass. I guess I’m more talented at being mean than I thought I would be.”
Then, just to see what she’d do, I lifted the popcorn tub, silently offering it to her once more.
She huffed out a disgusted breath even as she lifted her hand and took a handful without even looking at me.
My lips twitched as I fought a chuckle. For whatever reason that other jack-hole had made her lock up and shut down, she certainly wasn’t that way with me. It was kind of cool to know I could draw forth the spitfire in her and coax it into coming out to hiss and scratch where others could not. Made me feel sort of triumphant. Exclusive.
Special.
And though I had honestly been looking forward to this film, I had a hard time concentrating on it as it began. I just kept wondering about the woman sitting next to me.
Seriously though, if I wasn’t so duty-bound to dislike her, I might actually want to get to know her a little better. There was an interesting depth of contradictions about her that I wouldn’t mind exploring.
But Bella would cut off my balls for even entertaining the idea. So yeah, never mind that. I was totally not interested.
Chapter Three
Yellow
TWO HOURS LATER
Digging through my purse, I sniffed and pulled out a pack of tissues so I could dab at my damp eyes.
Okay, fine. They weren’t merely damp. Pathetically streaming wet with unending puddles of tears might be a more apt description.
“I just can’t believe she’s dead,” I uttered, still dazed and horrified as the ending credits scrolled across the screen.
“I know,” a hollow voice said next to me. “I did not see that coming.” Turning, I met Gracen Lowe’s dazed stare as he shook his head and added, “I guess the series really is over, then, huh?”
A sob wracked my shoulders. “But I’m not ready for it to be over. It’s been too great. Too epic. I need more.”
He nodded, agreeing, before he hissed a curse. “I mean, what the fuck? How am I supposed to continue with the rest of my life now?”
No idea.
I couldn’t seem to see past this, either.
Sniffing, I blew my nose.
Around us, the other movie watchers—all six of them—stood and filed their way out of the theater. Even the creeper who’d scared the holy bejesus out of me earlier and caused me to get my unwanted movie-watching companion shuffled out as if eager to get back to his own business.
Not that Gracen was so unwanted anymore. After leaning in to whisper his commentary of the movie to me within the first five minutes, and me being unable to stop myself from admitting some of my own, I decided it wasn’t so bad to watch a show with him. He regularly bounced thoughts and ideas off me as if he just couldn’t help himself. And because I was as invested in the plot as he was, I was forced to reply, until I was the one blurting out most of the predictions.
And now, it felt as if we’d survived that time-traveling, galactic disaster together.
Gracen and I watched the rest of the room wander off, shaking our heads in confusion, and we just continued to sit there, waiting for someone to start the real movie, where our beloved heroine didn’t freaking die at the end.
Why were we the only two who were so obviously affected? Did no one else have a heart? Or any kind of film-watching taste? This was a heart-wrenching tragedy here.
Setting a hand against his gut, Gracen winced. “I think I’m going to be sick. I seriously cannot believe she’s gone.”
Shaking my head to will the tears away, I stuffed the tissue back into my purse, determined to stop crying. “At least we’ll always have the reruns.”
The look he sent me was incredulous. “Are you kidding me? Nothing will ever live up to watching them for the first time.”
He had a point, so I sighed, not sure how to cheer us up now. “True.”
“Motherfucker,” he hissed and heaved himself to his feet so he could gather his popcorn tub, drink, and empty candy boxes. “This sucks.”
When one of the empty boxes slipped from the pile in his arms and fell to the floor, he muttered, “Shit,” and tried to bend down to retrieve it, only to lose more trash from his arms.
“Oh, here. I got it,” I offered.
“Thanks.” He straightened and waited for me to pick everything up before he started out of the row so we could walk side by side to the end of the aisle.
“Maybe they could go back in time and have some prequels of her when she was younger,” he guessed conversationally as we headed toward the exit.
I shook my head. “But then they’d probably use a different, younger actress, and I don’t think I could handle anyone else filling that role. Not right now, anyway.”
“Yeah,” he said, his shoulders slouching as he paused by the trash can and sent me a pitiful sigh, even as he dumped everything in his arms. “It’s really over, isn’t it?”
“Maybe she’s not dead after all,” I suggested hopefully, even though there was no hope for that because—
“We watched them burn her body at sea,” he reminded me.
I wrinkled my nose. “Yeah, well…” After tossing the two boxes I’d been carrying, I pulled my purse strap more firmly up my shoulder and stepped through the doors of the theater to start toward the front entrance of the building. “I can’t afford to think about it being over, so I’m just going to keep hoping some kind of bizarre miracle will happen.”
He nodded, considering my words. Then he softly answered, “I think I will too.” Only to gasp, “Ooh.” He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “Identical twin shows up out of nowhere and carries on her mission for her. Huh? That’s doable, right?”
Except mentioning a twin made me think of his twin. Sobering because I’d just spent the last two hours with my shoulder pressed up against Bella Lowe’s brother, and I’d actually enjoyed his company, I cleared my throat discreetly. “That—yeah, that could work, I guess.”
We were getting along, which was bad. I couldn’t be friendly with him.
Which meant, I needed to get out of his company, like now.
“You bet your ass it could work,” he said. “It’s freaking brilliant. They better go that route if they know what’s good for them. Otherwise, I will revolt.” Once we reached the doors, he opened one and held it wide for me to exit ahead of him.
Warmed by his thoughtfulness, I glanced at him shyly and murmured, “Thank you,” only to jar to a horrified halt when I realized the creepy guy from inside, who’d hit on me before the movie, was leaning against the wall right outside the building as if waiting for us to exit.
I was barely able to gape at him, wondering why he was still lingering, when Gracen bumped into me from behind.
“Ope.” His large, warm frame colliding with mine caused me to stumble forward. So he gripped my waist to steady me. “What…?” he started, only to spot the creeper as well. Then he stiffened, drawing me protectively closer. “What the fuck, man?”
Sm
irking at us, the creep pulled a piece of gum from his pocket. As he unwrapped it, he said, “Hey there. I was just curious if you two were going to keep up your lovers’ ruse all the way to your cars or not.”
“Ruse?” Gracen huffed as if offended by the word. He stepped around me so he could face off with his contender. “Just what the hell is your problem, buddy? Even if she wasn’t here with me—which she is—she doesn’t want anything to do with you. Got it?”
“Yeah, well…” The wall leaner popped his gum into his mouth, wadded the wrapper in his fist, and made a point of dropping it to the ground beside him as if littering was some kind of badass move. “I never heard her say that.”
Rising onto my tiptoes so I could see him over Gracen’s shoulder, I said, “No, he’s right. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
With a laugh, Gracen turned as if allowing me into the conversation, then he swept a hand from me to the other man, saying, “There you have it, bud, straight from the woman’s mouth. She’s not interested.” Offering me his elbow, he asked, “Shall we go somewhere else this psycho isn’t?”
I nodded and grabbed his bicep. “We shall.”
He grinned at me obligingly before transferring his smile to the man. “Sir,” he said pleasantly before trailing it with, “Follow us, and I’ll break your fucking face.”
Then he turned me in the opposite direction and started us down the sidewalk.
“Oh my God, thank you,” I breathed, clutching his arm for dear life before I quietly added, “You’re walking me all the way to my car, right?”
“Hell, yes,” he growled. “I really need your protection right now because that dude’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.” When I laughed softly over his joke, he leaned closer. “Please tell me you know some kind of kickass martial arts.”
I winced and decided not to mention the single self-defense class I’d taken. “I could rack him in the junk for you.”
With a nod, he lifted his eyebrows. “That’ll do. The move has always brought me to my knees, anyway.”
Blinking up at him when he started to veer us away from where my car was parked, I tightened my grip on his arm and swung us right back onto the correct path as I asked, “Have a lot of women kicked you there before?”
It made me a little uneasy to learn he’d harassed anyone enough to get them to retaliate in such a desperate and violent way.
But then he answered, “Only Bella,” with an engaging grin as he easily followed my lead. “But trust me, she showed no mercy, that’s for damn sure.”
“What did you do to her?” I had to know, still leery.
“Nothing,” he cried in mock innocence as he pressed a hand to his chest. “I swear. Though I should note, I will never cut all the hair off a Barbie doll ever again.”
I giggled, relieved to hear he wasn’t as threatening as I was beginning to worry.
From the one encounter I’d had with him before tonight, I never would’ve guessed he was so witty and droll.
The lighthearted glint faded from his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder, however, and then he faced forward again before saying, “Yep. He’s still watching us.”
“Seriously?” Shuddering as I remembered why Gracen was hanging around me in the first place, I huddled closer. “And I don’t even know what I did to lead him on.”
“You didn’t have to do anything,” Gracen assured me softly, his gaze full of sympathy.
I stopped in my tracks. “What?”
He jarred to a stop next to me, his eyes squinted in question. “What?” he repeated.
“You think I did do something to attract his crazy attention?”
“Huh?” he spat incredulously. “No, I don’t.”
But there’s been that tone in his voice. He totally had.
I folded my arms across my chest. “Right. So what did I do?”
“Nothing!” He shook his head, appearing completely bewildered. “I saw the whole thing, and you did absolutely nothing to encourage him. Alright? The guy was a creep who didn’t know when to stop. And I can’t tell you why he’s a creep, either. So stop looking at me like I can.”
“I accidentally glanced his way, didn’t I?”
“No,” he insisted. “You didn’t look at anyone. That’s what I thought made you so alluring.”
I blinked repeatedly, flabbergasted. “How is ignoring everyone alluring?”
“I don’t know!” Gracen cried, beginning to appear panicked as if he thought he was cornered. “You just strode down the aisle with this purpose, you know, like you were fully prepared to claim your seat.”
“Because I was,” I muttered, unable to understand why that was such a bad thing.
“And it made you look confident,” he explained. “Which is attractive all on its own, but added to your looks…” He shook his head and waved a hand as if the rest of his thoughts should just explain themselves.
I gulped and looked down at myself before glancing up at him, where things stirred to life inside me.
Did he think I was pretty?
“What about my looks?” I found myself asking, feeling this strange enticing anticipation as I waited for his answer.
“Well…” He squinted, thinking his answer through. “You look really good in those jeans,” he told me as he skimmed a quick glance over me, only to pause at my hair. “And then there’s the ponytail.”
Reaching up, I touched my hair. “What’s wrong with my ponytail?”
“Not a damn thing,” he answered. “That’s my point. It’s cute and perky, giving you a dash of fun, and innocence, and vulnerability. Plus, you smelled amazing when you passed by me. It made me take a second look. Add all that together with your looks and confident walk, and I don’t know why you wouldn’t catch the attention of every heterosexual male on the face of the planet.”
“So you’re saying this is all my fault? Because of the way I look?” I asked curiously, pausing when we made it to my car so I could dig up my keys.
“What?” he sounded confused. “No. That’s not what I was saying at all.”
But the more I thought about that idea, the more it ticked me off.
Once I had my keys in hand, I scowled into Gracen’s eyes and held up my car fob threateningly. “Let’s get one thing straight, mister. I did not invite him to hit on me because I was alone with a ponytail and wearing a freaking conservative pair of jeans, got it? He hit on me because he’s a creepy man who can’t control his own stupid impulses.”
“Hey! Alright.” Gracen lifted his hands innocently. “I got it. And I totally agree. I’m on your side here. And, for the record, I already said it wasn’t your fault and that you did nothing to invite his attention. Stop making me the bad guy just because I told you how I saw you when you walked in.”
Oh.
That was right. He’d only been describing his reaction to me entering the theater, not my creeper’s. And for some reason, that changed everything.
Warmth flooded my veins.
But why didn’t I mind attracting Gracen?
Strange how two men’s very similar thoughts toward me had elicited two very opposite effects from me.
I cleared my throat, not sure how to deal with that. So I frowned at Gracen and mumbled, “But you didn’t make a pass at me.”
He’d been rude and nasty for a couple of minutes there, but completely asexual. And that seemed to make all the difference in the world.
“Doesn’t mean the thought didn’t cross my mind,” he countered cockily. But a moment later, his eyes registered surprise, as if he suddenly realized what he was admitting. Glancing away guiltily, he cleared his throat before turning back and adding, “I mean, before I realized who you were and that I hated you, of course.”
Hated me?
Ouch. I didn’t much like the word hate coming from his lips whenever he referred to me.
Trying to hide the snippet of hurt it caused, I scowled and muttered, “Hate, huh? Wow. Thanks.”
He winced.
“Hey, I’m not the one who double-crossed Bella and drew that line in the sand between us.”
Cold dread clamped down on my stomach, and black spots danced in my vision. But seriously, why did he have to keep mentioning that particular event? It always made me feel sick to my stomach with the urge to defend myself so he’d stop thinking the worst of me.
I didn’t like knowing how awful he assumed I was. Though, I’m not sure why I cared. I should hate him right back.
But somewhere between the beginning of the movie and the end, and that whole part where he’d helped me out of my awkward situation, we’d—I don’t know—bonded, I guess.
At least I thought we had.
So, no, I didn’t like the idea of him hating me. It sucked a lot, actually.
But he had a point. With everything that had happened between me, and Bella, and that monster-who-shall-not-be-named, it was probably best not to have any kind of acquaintance with Gracen.
Even if he did have awesome taste in movies.
And he was probably the most beautiful man I’d ever seen, with the prettiest stormy blue-gray eyes and silken dark hair.
And he had a heroic sense of honor.
And he was easy to talk to.
And he made me feel safe.
Nothing could ever go anywhere between us. I didn’t want anything to do with anyone who might remind me of the worst era of my life, which is exactly what he would do.
Ergo, I assumed an affronted sneer and spat back, “Well, I’m not too fond of you either, you know. Telling me I have lousy taste in movie-watching seats.”
His mouth fell open before he sputtered. “It’s way too close to the screen. How can you see the whole picture when you’re that fucking close?”
I didn’t answer, just kept accusing, “And slut-shaming me.”
“Hey!” He lifted his hands. “I did not—”
“Calling me a homewrecker.”
“Well, that’s just stating fact.”
“Saying I invited that guy’s sleazy attention.”
“Now, you know I didn’t—”
