Page 40 of The Wrong One

“We could have just rented a movie and stayed at my place,” she commented.

“Oh, but the ambiance of the drive-in is so much better,” I said.

“I feel so cliché,” she replied dryly.

I reached for my bottle of water and sucked it down. She grabbed the bag of sour worms and started to eat. We did our best to focus on the movie. It was a terrible movie, but it seemed like a better option than the repercussions of making out with Izzy. Although, the making out certainly sounded a lot more fun. I couldn’t believe I had kissed Izzy. It wasn’t just kissing. It was so much more. If we were anywhere else, I probably would have taken it too far. We stopped just in time.

I had butterflies in my stomach. I couldn’t remember the last time I ever felt like that about a woman.

“Scared?” I asked when I noticed her holding the bag of candy in front of her face.

“No. Yes. This is just gross. What is the point?”

“It’s like porn.” I shrugged. “There really isn’t supposed to be a point. It’s just blood and gore. Porn is about sex. Lots of sex. I mean, honestly, have you ever opened your door to the UPS man and banged him up against the wall? Have you ever mounted the plumber?”

She burst into laughter. “I can’t say that I have.”

“And I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about this guy coming for you in the grocery store.”

She laughed again. “It’s just disgusting. I hate it.”

“Really?” I asked. “You didn’t notice him in the movie? The actor playing the part of the killer?”

“What about him?”

“He has a sleazy look. He looks like he just wants to get in your panties. And he has these thin, thick eyebrows.”

“So, you’re into sleazy guys with thin, thick eyebrows?” she teased.

“No,” I said. “But that’s the point. There is no plot, just people getting murdered. They’re trying to make you feel like you have something, some sort of connection with the people being murdered. It’s just a distraction. It’s not real. It’s just sleazy guys with thin, thick eyebrows putting their hands on you.”

Izzy opened up the bag of candy and dropped one into her mouth. “How do you know they aren’t real?”

“Because it’s just a movie,” I said.

“But what if it is real?” she asked.

“Then that would really suck.” I shrugged.

She laughed and took another bite. “That’s one way to look at.”

It felt good to have easy banter with her. It was strange to be getting along so well with a woman. When I took women out, it was usually dinner and sex. I didn’t care about all the other stuff. I had yet to meet the woman I thought I could spend my life with. I didn’t see the point in wasting time getting to know someone I was never going to see again.

Izzy was different. She was the kind of woman you took home and asked her to stay the night. She was the kind of woman I could randomly text during the day. We could make plans for a low-key dinner or stay in.

Shit. One little session in the backseat and I was talking happily ever after. Something was seriously wrong with me.

I turned to look at Izzy and found her staring down at her lap. “You really hate this, don’t you?”

She wrinkled her nose. “It’s just not my thing. there’s so much icky stuff.”

“Want to go?” I asked her.

“No.” She shook her head. Her voice was low and sultry. “I was thinking maybe we could do that other thing we were doing.”

How was I ever going to say no to her? How was I ever going to stay focused at work? I was going to look at her and want her.

ChapterSeventeen

---