Page 92 of Stay With Me
I’m in awe of this man who bought out this theater so we can spend it completely alone. I know it couldn’t have been cheap and even though the Hollises are wealthy, it’s the thought behind it that’s making my heart melt.
But also now I don’t have to feel bad about talking through it because although I’ve heard of this movie, I haven’t a single clue what it’s about. But Tripp doesn’t seem to mind my commentary as we drink our slushies and eat popcorn and gummy worms.
“Oof, the quality.”
“You’ll get used to it,” he reassures me.
These recliners are super comfortable, and my ass is toasty warm, so I have no complaints.
“Ooh, she makes pottery.”
“Demi is so beautiful, but that haircut is not it, bestie.”
“It was on trend for the late eighties and early nineties,” he counters.
“I guess. She can really pull off any look, but I love her long hair.”
A dreamy sigh escapes my lips when a bare-chested Patrick enters and sits behind her. “He’s so classicallyhandsome. I just wanna thread my fingers through his golden strands and give them a little tug.”
Tripp glances at me with an arched brow.
“What? Am I not supposed to appreciate good hair?”
He smirks, shoving more gummy worms in his mouth. This is why I requested my own bag.
“Holy shit, that’s hot.” My eyes are glued to the screen when Patrick starts kissing Demi’s neck while her hands are covered in clay. Even though he’s supposed to be helping her, he accidentally destroys her vase, and they begin making out instead.
“You should get me a pottery wheel so we can recreate that scene. Except I don’t wanna get all messy. We’ll just skip to the good stuff.”
He barks out a laugh. “Duly noted.”
“So thisisa spicy movie.” I giggle when Patrick slides his hand underneath her oversized shirt and palms her bare ass.
“Dear Lord, look at his abs.” I mimic licking up an ice cream cone and Tripp shoots me an annoyed side-eye. “You’re the one who brought me here to watch a Patrick Swayze porno.”
He inhales a sharp breath as if he’s regretting that decision.
“Fine, no more commentary on his looks.” I mimic zipping my lips closed.
Now they’re walking in some dark alley. Could never be me.
“Wait, who is that guy?” I sit up when some rando demands Patrick’s wallet.
Demi’s screaming at Patrick for him to just hand it over, but when the mugger shoves her, Patrick loses his shit.
As he should.
My heart’s racing as I watch the scene unfold and when the gun goes off, I jump.
“Oh my God. Who got shot?” I grip the armrest and sit up.
Then Patrick’s chasing after the guy, and I blow out a relieved breath.
“Oh whew, he’s okay.” I palm my chest over the pounding inside my ribcage.
Ten seconds later…
Patrick’s watching Demi cry out for help, and I’m just as confused as he looks.
