“Yeah, thanks,” I mumble, uncomfortable with the electricity running through my veins at his touch. I step back from him, missing his warmth immediately. “I should go.”
“Go where? The movie just started.”
I shrug. “Not really feeling it.”
His eyes find something over my shoulder as he pushes me back in the restroom, following behind me.
“What are you doing?” I hiss. “You can’t be in here.”
“Shh.”
A moment later, I hear Wayland call into the bathroom. “You okay, Morgan?”
Keaton looks at me as if to say, “Ball is in your court.”
“Yep. I’ll be out in a minute.” I sigh, knowing I have to go back now. “So much for my easy escape,” I grumble to myself.
“What did he do?” At the hardness in his tone, I turn and look at Keaton. His stiff stance causes me to pause.
“I didn’t like how handsy he got.” Keaton turns to go with clenched fists, but I stop him. “But I can handle myself, Keat. That’s why I was leaving.” I try not to think about how easy it was for me to use his nickname.
He fumes for a moment more before he grabs my hand, pulling me along with him.
“What are you doing?”
He turns back to me. “You’re sitting with me. Screw that fucker.”
As he goes to move again, I pull on his hand. “It’s sold out. I’m not sitting on your lap.”
He gives me a cocky smile. “You would have the best seat in the house.” At my frown, he continues, “We have an extra seat. Come on.”
Giving up the struggle, I let him pull me back inside. I watch as Wayland does a double take of my hand in Keaton’s. I focus on the steps instead of meeting his gaze. I feel slightly guilty for leaving him alone, but then I remember his lips on me and I shiver.
Once we get back to Keaton’s seats, I see that he lied. All the seats but one is taken. “Keaton,” I hiss, but he holds his hand up.
“Move, Beck.” His date looks up at him, stunned, before looking at me. She gives me a sneer, but Keaton doesn’t hesitate. “Move, Beck. I told you this seat was temporary when you accepted the ticket.”
She rolls her eyes but grabs her things before she heads down the stairs. I watch as she walks up to Wayland and sits in the seat I vacated.
Keaton tugs me into the seat next to him.
“What did you mean about this seat being temporary?” I whisper to Keaton.
“Shh. Watch the movie, Morgan.” He puts his arm around the back of my chair, careful not to touch me.
It takes me a few minutes, but as I get drawn into the movie, I almost forget who is sitting next to me.
My heart starts to race. I watch as a man walks down the hall towards the bedroom. I know who’s in the room, and I know what he’s there to do. As he turns the knob, I want to scream at him. I want to hide at the same time. My body is conflicted by the images before me. The door opens, and the man advances on the body in the bed, his arms above his head with a knife clutched tightly in between. Before he plunges it deep into the man in the bed, I squeeze my eyes shut and jump. I can’t help the fear that coils deep inside.
“Shh. It’s okay. Come here.” Next thing I know, the armrest between Keaton and me is pulled up and I’m pulled into his chest.
He continues to hold me as we watch the horror film. He plays with my hair and whispers to me every time a gory part comes on, distracting me from the worst of it, similar to the way he would always talk and make jokes during the bad parts of movies when we were children.
Not one person shushed him for continuing to chatter to me quietly as the movie plays. It isn’t until the very end that I realize how close I am to him, my hand lying on his thigh. His arm has slid from my shoulders down to my side, his hand drawing a pattern along my ribs.
Heat pools between my legs at the closeness and intimacy between us. I move back quickly as the lights come back on.
Keaton stands to stretch. I don’t miss the way his shirt pulls up, showing his flat stomach—a stomach that at one point during the movie my hands were pressed against.
“Still don’t have the stomach for horror movies, huh?”
I get up and smack him lightly. “Stop teasing me.”
He chuckles as he grabs my hand, leading me down the stairs. “Are you coming to our party tonight?”
“I didn’t know there was a party, so no.”
“I heard a yes in that. Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”
“I drove myself, Yates.”
“Your car will be safe here.”
I bite my lip, contemplating it until he pulls my hands closer to his chest, giving me the most pitiful puppy dog eyes.
“Please.”
My heart melts into the green eyes that have haunted me. “Fine, but when I want to go home, you take me home.”
“Agreed.”
Once in the car, I break the silence. “This is a nice car, Keat.”
He shoots me a smile. “It’s a McLaren Senna. It has a 4.0-liter, twin-turbocharged, V8 engine. 789 horsepower.”
“You’ve always loved your cars.” I’m surprised at how familiar this is, talking to Keaton like we are almost friends.
We chat about school and random light topics all the way to his house. It almost feels like the old days. It’s nice being able to let my walls take a break and have a conversation without watching my words.
I’m having so much fun that I don’t question Keaton when he grabs my hand and leads me into the house. As we enter the party, Wayland speaks from behind us. “What the hell, Yates?”
“Apparently they decided to skip dinner and followed us instead.” I mumble under my breath.
I turn around, as does Keaton. “What’s
