Page 143 of Play With Me

I mouth an apology that he probably can’t see and wait for her to come out. They’re all in the middle of the row so she’s still got a handful of seats to get past. Everyone shuffles their knees for her, some of them making little tsks.

Finally she reaches the end of the aisle, where a large man wearing a beanie—which is weird for summer, though it is cool and rainy out—angles his long legs out of the aisle for her.

Sasha glares at him, but because of all the stuff in her arms, she can’t easily get by him. I want to offer to help, but the situation is already extremely awkward, and I don’t want to block anyone else’s view of the screen.

“You know,” she whispers to the man, “it might be helpful if you actually got up to make room for me.”

“It might be helpful if you didn’t carry half a closet of clothes into a movie theatre,” the man retorts. It’s hard to tell with his voice so low, but I think he has an American accent. And there’s something familiar about that low grumble.

“Unreal!” Sasha says. She hesitates a minute, still stuck behind his legs, then to my utter shock, dumps her stuff on his lap, braces her hands on his shoulders, and steps over him one leg at a time, practically straddling him in the process.

“Thanks for being such a gentleman!” she whispers once her second high-heeled foot has cleared his tree-trunk thigh.

The man looks slightly stunned, and Sasha flips her hair before grabbing her stuff and stalking up the aisle, jerking her chin at me.

“Can you believe that guy?” she whispers once we’re out the back door.

“So rude,” I say as we approach Jude.

He slips his arm around my waist, kissing my temple, and I lean in, having to concentrate so I don’t close my eyes and sigh, swooning.

Of course I don’t mention her part in the little confrontation, or the fact that even from here I can see the man throw a glance at Sasha over his shoulder, a scowl to end all scowls on his face.

I gasp as recognition hits.

“I see you met my brother,” Jude says to Sasha.

“That oaf is your brother!?” Sasha says? “I’m so sorry!”

It’s not an apology. It’s sympathy.

I bite back a smile. “You leaving, Sasha?”

“I’m sorry.” Her expression shifts to one of deep regret that I know is genuine.

“It’s okay, Sash!” She’s been to almost all my showings—she has nothing to be sorry for. “Everything okay?”

I’m slightly distracted by Jude’s thumb tracing a line across my hip, but I can’t help be a little worried for Sasha too. Her brother has blown up in the news lately, and I can tell it’s taking a toll on her.

“Fine. Laila texted with a 911, but she does that a lot. It’s probably nothing. We’ll meet up at the afterparty later, yeah?”

I give her a squeeze. “Love you, Sash.” Sasha’s been an amazing friend these past six months. Just like she was before. But she practically became Cap’s new best friend when he and Jude were here in the spring, giving Jude and I lots of opportunities for…reacquaintance. And she’s been there for every bit of my stress around the documentary.

Sasha disappears around the corner with her phone tucked under her ear as she calls her sister.

Once we’re alone, he pulls me to him, his hands sliding over my hips. “Finally.”

“Did you know your brother was going to be here?”

Jude grins as the sounds of the movie echo out into the lobby. “He wasn’t sure if he was going to make it. Guess he did.”

I’m touched, truly.

“You were incredible up there.”

I blush.

“I think you could give a speech to royalty now and not even blink.”

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