Page 21 of Perfectly Us
“Very. And I thought free coffee was cool. Seems like I’m in the wrong profession.”
I bump my shoulder to his. “That’s why you have me. You give me smoothies, and I’ll get you into free movies. Deal?”
He softly smiles, and as usual, there’s something shy about it. It kind of makes me crush on him harder. “Okay.”
“You want anything?” I ask once we reach the counter. “I can get the jumbo combo. It comes with two large drinks, free refills, and a large bucket of popcorn, also refillable.”
“How much will that cost us? A month’s rent?”
I grin and bump his shoulder again. “Don’t worry about it. I got us covered.”
“Look at you, moneybags.”
“Was that a joke?” I face him. “Oh my god, is the world ending?”
“I joke sometimes,” he says, a flush coloring his pale neck.
“Hey, Alex,” Jasmine says. She’s new, only started working at the theater about a month ago, but she’s fun to work with. “What are you here to see?”
“Into the Ruins.”
“Oh! Is that the one with Declan Price?”
“Yep,” I answer. “That man is hotter than a two-dollar pistol on the Fourth of July. I’d totally have his babies.”
She laughs. “Right?”
I see Shiloh look at me from the corner of my eye. I haven’t tried to hide the fact I’m gay or anything. The default in society is always straight though, so I find myself having to come out to everyone new I meet.
I guess this is how I come out to Shiloh.
I order our concession and pay for it. Unfortunately, that’s the one thing I don’t get for free. I don’t even get a discount. It’s worth it. Nothing beats overpriced, buttery movie theater popcorn.
“We’re in theater five,” I say, handing him his drink, then grabbing mine, along with the popcorn.
As we walk across the lobby, he takes a drink of his soda, and I glance at his hand. That guy from last night said something about Shiloh slicing his wrists. Is that why he wears bracelets? To cover scars?
Shiloh hasn’t said anything about it, which tells me he’s probably hoping I forgot. And I can’t bring myself to ask.
Otto was right. The auditorium is empty when we walk inside. It’s a big theater too, seating close to three hundred people.
“Do you think we’ll be able to find two seats together?” I ask.
Shiloh snorts. “I don’t know. Looks kind of full. Maybe we can ask someone to scoot over to make room for us.”
As the evening’s gone on, he’s spoken up more. Sure, he’s still super quiet and visibly nervous at times, but there are moments—like now—when he smiles and just seems so… warm.
“Are you a ‘sit in the middle’kinda guy or a ‘back row’ one?”
“Back row.”
“Ah, the make-out seats. How naughty of you.”
“That’s not… I don’t…” Shiloh shakes his head. Man, I need to stop teasing him. He looks like he’s about to have a panic attack or something. “I just don’t like people behind me. Or open spaces. Is that okay?”
“Yep.” I wave a hand to the stairs. “After you. Pick any seat you want. I promise not to stare at your ass as I walk behind you.”
“I’m not sure I believe you.” But he smiles as he says it.
