Page 78 of Broken Pieces
Parking in front of the apartment building, she asks, “Do you want to come in and watch a movie or something?”
“Can’t get enough of me?” I ask with a teasing tone.
I’m fucking glad she asked, because all I’ve been wanting to do is spend more time with her.
I’m obsessed with this woman.
She shrugs. “You’re not the worst company, believe it or not.”
“I agree. I’m fucking great.”
She pats my arm jokingly. “Cocky much?”
I shrug. “Something like that.”
We’re on her couch watching a silly rom-com Christmas movie that she somehow convinced me to watch, even though it's not even Christmas. She claims that since we’re close to the holidays, it counts. I’m not going to argue with her logic. I’m happy with whatever she wants as long as I get to spend more time with her.
“So, he was her first high school boyfriend, and they both randomly reunite in a town that looks like the North Pole?” I quip, dripping with sarcasm.
I’ve never understood why women go crazy for movies like this.
“Yes. Isn't it great?” she replies, returning from the kitchen with a bowl of caramel popcorn, “Want some?” she offers.
I shake my head, still feeling stuffed. “I don't know how you can eat anything else. I'm still full.”
She shrugs, settling down beside me, dangling a piece of popcorn in front of my mouth, forcing me to try it. With an eye roll, and feeling defeated, I take the bite. An appreciative groan escapes me, grabbing a handful of the caramelized goodness. This shit tastesdelicious.
She raises an eyebrow, teasing me. “I thought you were full.”
“I don’t know what you put in here, but it’s addicting.”
She laughs as she grabs another piece of popcorn and eats it, humming in satisfaction. “Me and the girls made some caramel from scratch. Well, it was Isabella, really. She’s really good at that kind of stuff. It's good, isn't it?”
“Oh, yeah. Isabella is a great baker. I had to ban her from bringing more baked goods to work because I was gaining weight.”
She gapes at me. “So you’re the reason why she never brings me treats?”
Patting my belly, I say, “This body doesn’t take care of itself. I gotta watch these abs.”
“Oh my God. You’re impossible.”
With a laugh, I bring her closer to me and kiss the top of her head, inhaling her addicting scent. “Have I ever told you you smell like strawberries?”
She looks up at me. “It’s the perfume Sophia got me a few years ago, custom-made. She always says I look like a strawberry, so I should smell like one too.”
“Can’t argue with that logic.”
She shakes her head with a laugh, grabbing the blanket that’s folded next to her, covering us up with it. With my arm across the back of the couch, she rests her head on my chest. My heart flutters, just enjoying ourselves in a very domestic, normal kind of way. A normal I’ve never experienced. One I would love to experience again, as long as it is with her.
We continue watching the movie, sharing popcorn, and enjoying each other's company. I struggle to pay attention to the movie, all too aware of our proximity. Only she could make me feel this nervous, like a teenager on his first date.
The movie ends, and she turns to me with enthusiasm. “That was good, right?” she asks.
“Nah, not really,” I lie.
The movie wasn't amazing, but it wasn't terrible either. Once I got past the whole town looking like a personal Santa factory, it was actually kind of nice.
“You're totally lying.” she teases.
