Page 29 of Enzo

His smile was small but real. “You’re really okay watching it again?”

“Yeah,” I grinned. “Besides, I need another look at Legolas and his perfect elf hair. Seriously, how does he fight an entire war and still look like a shampoo commercial?”

Robbie laughed, that easy sound I didn’t hear often enough. “I’d love to.”

“Bring the snacks,” I said, “I’ll cue up the movie.”

Later, when we were both slouched on the couch, the opening scenes flickering across the screen, I caught Robbie sneaking a glance at me. He wasn’t scared at that moment, and that was enough.

Robbie was already absorbed, his eyes fixed on the screen as though the rest of the world had faded away. When he watched a movie or read a book, he relaxed, lifted out of his thoughts, escaping into someone else’s world for a while. I relished watching that happen, seeing the tension in his shoulders ease as he got lost in the story. But I also liked needling him, poking at that rare moment of quiet until he was smiling in exasperation.

God, I loved his smile.

When he’d finished his popcorn, I settled back in the corner and held out my hands. He climbed onto my lap and settled in my arms.

Perfect.

“I still say Frodo is the hero of this story,” I said, carrying on from another conversation we had on repeat.

“Nope, it’s Sam, and you know it.”

I scoffed. “Nope, Frodo’s the one carrying the ring.”

Robbie chuckled. “Yeah, but he wouldn’t have made it past Rivendell without Sam. He never gives up on him. He’s brave and strong and that makeshimthe hero.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sam is great, sure, but he’s not the one the story revolves around.”

“Say it. Say Sam is the real hero.” Robbie poked at my side, knocking the empty popcorn bowl so it wobbled on the arm of the sofa. We both grabbed to halt its fall, but I leaned too far. Robbie’s face was inches from mine, breath warm, eyes wide, my weight pinning his arm. His heat and sheer closeness made my pulse stutter, a rush of warmth flooding my chest as every nerve seemed to ignite. I struggled to breathe, my heartbeat so loud I was sure Robbie could hear it, each second stretching as desire tangled with panic.

We stilled. The world outside the moment disappeared. The only thing left was his breath, touch, and gaze holding mine.

“Enzo?” he whispered.

A charge settled in the air between us, and I was close enough to feel his breath against my skin, his entire body tensing beneath my touch, but he didn’t pull away.

I waited.

I could have kissed him. I wanted to kiss him. It would have been easy, natural, a language I understood—something I could use to show him how much I...

How much I what?

Wanted to kiss him? Needed to kiss him?

I sat back and handed him the bowl, clearing my throat. “Sorry,” I muttered, not quite looking at him. The moment passed, and the Battle of Helm’s Deep raged on the screen. I latched onto it, needing something to fill the space between us. “You ever notice how the orc that Aragorn fights here—right before Legolas shoots him—has a completely different weapon in the close-up? It’s like, axe, then suddenly sword.”

Robbie didn’t respond at first, still gripping the bowl like he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Then after a pause, his lips quirked. “Yeah.”

“And in the wide shot, he’s on the left. Close-up? Right side.”

“Have we watched this too many times?” He winced as if he expected me to tell him I was bored, didn’t want to watch, or any of a million awful things he imagined I could say—none of which I would say. He couldn’t know how happy I was sitting here with him, watching over him.

Nearly kissing him.

“Never too many,” I said, throwing a piece of popcorn into my mouth. “So, tell me again, how Sam is the real hero?”

ELEVEN

Robbie

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