Page 119 of Play the Part

Fifteen minutes and a few neighbourhoods later, we park on a busy street, but I still don’t know what I’m looking for. I vaguely know where we are, but nothing comes to mind until we walk up to the doors of an indie movie theatre.

It takes me a few seconds to put the context clues together, and when it finally clicks, my stomach explodes into a dozen butterflies.

Huxley has somehow managed to find what I’m assuming is the only movie theatre in Marsford Bay celebrating nineties romcoms with a special double-showing ofCan’t Hardly Wait, followed by my favorite—10 Things I Hate About You.

I turn on my heels and smile widely.

“You’re kidding.”

Even with my positive reaction, Huxley rubs his nape, looking nervous, then shrugs, his hand still up in the air.

“I knew you had a thing for the nineties and then heard about this place so …” He smiles sheepishly, not fully finishing his sentence. “You like it?”

“Do I like it?” I parrot back, grabbing his forearm with both hands in pure excitement. “Iloveit.”

Huxley’s nervous expression fades into a shy smirk as if secretly celebrating his win. And my heart flutters when I think about the careful thought he put into seeing me happy.

“This is perfect, Hux. Literally perfect.”

I kiss him, doing my best to convey all my affection through our parted lips and the touch of our tongues. Deepening the kiss with a tug to his coat collar, his hands smooth over my ass, pulling me into him. The moment slips into a place where time doesn’t exist, and nothing else matters but us.

Eventually, Huxley breaks the kiss and chuckles softly against my lips. “If we don’t hurry, we’ll miss the first showing.”

I pull away, grinning like a fool, and take his hand, leading us inside.

48

HUXLEY

The date is a hit, and I’m buzzing in my seat long after the lights go down and the first movie starts playing. By the time the second feature ends, the buzz has slumbered into a low hum of pure contentment. Especially when Connie spends the last half-hour of the movie with her head resting on my shoulder.

It’s past eight and dark out by the time we leave the movie theatre. We slowly stroll out into the late winter night, Connie’s arm tucked through mine.

The date is winding down, but I’m not ready to end it just yet.

“Dessert?” I ask, already subtly leading us down the street.

She beams at me, her body pressed close to mine as we walk. Her hazel eyes shimmer as if lit up from the inside out, and once again, she steals my breath away.

“Always,” she answers with a small, sated sigh.

Unbeknownst to Connie, I scoped out the area before bringing her here and happen to know that there’s a diner she might think is cute just around the corner.

As we walk inside, the bell chimes above our heads. We nodat the server standing near the counter before we pick a booth in the far back, near the window. I slide in first, and Connie follows suit, sitting next to me.

For the first bit, in between ordering coffees and pie, we barely talk, our loaded glances doing all the talking for us. I think—or maybe hope—she’s feeling a lot like me right now.

Content. Happy. Quietly satisfied.

When our slices of pie arrive—hers key lime and mine cherry—she takes a bite of mine before even tasting hers. She notices me staring and chuckles with her mouth full, the fork slipping past her lips.

“Sorry, was that rude?”

I grin and shake my head. I’d let her eat my whole damn plate if it meant I could stare at her like this forever.

“What’s mine is yours, baby.”

“Careful.” She laughs, tucking a red strand of hair behind her ear while she takes a sip of coffee. “That sounded a lot like a proposal.”

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