Page 22 of Perfectly Us
I really do try not to check out his ass as we go up the stairs, but he has a nice one. Perfect, really. Not flat but not too round either. His long legs look great too.
Dammit, I’m totally staring.
We reach the back row and walk to the seats in the center before sitting down. The house lights dim as the first preview starts. We made it just in time. I take a drink of my soda before tossing a handful of popcorn into my mouth. Noticing Shiloh eyeing the bucket, I shift closer to him and angle it toward him.
“Thanks,” he says before grabbing a few pieces. He cups them in his hand and eats them slowly, one by one. When we both reach into the bucket and our fingers touch, he yanks his hand away. “Sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
He shrugs and looks at the screen. A preview to a romantic comedy is playing.
“You know, I thought that shit only happened in movies,” I say, trying to dissolve the sudden awkwardness between us. “Two people reaching for something at the same time. Fingers touch and they pull away and smile at each other. If thiswerea movie, we’d probably bang by the end of the night. Just sayin’.”
Shiloh is quiet, but his brow’s furrowed. And then, “How did you know?”
“How did I know what?”
Another pause. “That you like guys?”
“I think I suspected for a while, but it became pretty clear when I was thirteen. Know how I said my mom has a yoga studio? Well, I walked over there one day after school because my brother had football practice, and I didn’t want to wait on him in the heat. She was in the middle of a class, and I sat in the corner. There was a guy there, stretching on the mat. His shirt was off, and I remember sitting there watching the muscles in his back move as he did the poses. I watched how his lips parted and his eyes closed as he breathed. In. Out.” I snap out of the memory and look over at him. “So, yeah. That’s when I knew for sure, but I didn’t actually come out for another two years.”
Shiloh watches me so intently. It looks like he wants to ask something else, but he looks back at the screen.
The movie sucks me in quickly once it starts. The lead actor, Declan Price, finds an ancient artifact from an archeology site he and his team were digging up. The damn thing ends up being cursed, and he has to travel to ruins deep in the jungle to find answers. My favorite part of it is every time he takes his shirt off.
After the movie, I stand up and stretch. The house lights come back on as the credits roll.
“Did you like it?” I ask.
Shiloh grabs his drink from the cup holder. “Yeah. Kind of predictable, but still entertaining.”
“I knew that one chick was bad news as soon as she was introduced.” I gather the empty bucket of popcorn and my cup before walking down the stairs. He’s behindmethis time, but I’m fairly confident he’s not checking out my ass like I did to his. “All she wanted was the artifact. Couldn’t give two shits about him. I’m glad she fell into that fiery pit.”
“Harsh,” Shiloh says.
“Bitch deserved it.”
He laughs under his breath. “Like I said. Harsh.”
We throw away our trash and walk out of the auditorium and back into the lobby. A few people are scattered throughout, some getting refills at the concession stand. A guy is trying his luck at the claw machine in the arcade, a girl standing beside him asking him to try to get the alien plushie.
I tell Jasmine and Otto bye before Shiloh and I leave the theater. The shift from nice, cool air to hot mugginess is drastic. Moths fly around the tall lights in the parking lot, and a police siren wails in the distance.
“Thanks for letting me kidnap you tonight,” I say once we’re beside our vehicles. “We should do it again sometime.”
“Yeah.”
My self-control finally slips. “Can I ask you something? And it’s cool if you don’t wanna answer it.”
Shiloh glances at me, waiting.
“That guy from the party. The one who made an ass of himself.” Right as the words leave my mouth, I see Shiloh’s expression change, become guarded. “I take it you knew him?”
“Yeah. We went to school together.”
“What he said about you…”
“Is true.” Shiloh blows out a breath. “Well, kind of. I didn’t go to a nuthouse. It was a summer therapy program.”
