Page 38 of The Seven Month Itch
Guess she does.
We find two seats in the back of the screening room. It’s big enough to fit seven rows and spacious enough not to feel claustrophobic while fake orgasms play out on the screen. The crowd has thinned out to a handful of couples. My guessis people took one look at the movie posters, grabbed their popcorn and wine, and got the hell out of Dodge.
At least we have the entire back row to ourselves. The oversize armchairs won’t crush my nuts, either, so that’s a plus. Red and gold are the colors of choice, some type of Old Hollywood vibe. This would be the perfect setup if the seats reclined.
Oh, wait. Found the button.
I hand Madison her small popcorn and pop the top on my Milk Duds.
“Have you seen this movie?”
“Hell no!” I clear my throat. That came out louder than expected. “Justice tried to get me to watch it because ‘the love story evolves,’” I say with air quotes, “but I couldn’t do it.” I shake my head with a faint smile, lost in the memories of wrestling for the remote. On the couch. The bed. The kitchen counter. “God knows she tortured me enough with Hallmark and Lifetime movies.”
Madison’s face deflates at mention of Justice.
Idiot.
“Sorry about that.” I didn’t mean to bring her up. The thought just came out.
Her mouth turns up at the corners. “It’s okay.” She nods. “There’s history there.” What she really means is it’s not, but we’ll pretend it is. She shifts closer to me and crosses her legs. Gold flecks in her eye makeup sparkle. “I hope one day we’ll make some of our own again.”
The lights dim. I snake my arm around Madison and sink further into the chair. Without a divider between us, her body nestles against my chest, the perfect fit. Being with Madison is easy. There’s no guilt or reminders of past mistakes. No condemnation. I can just be, and without Justice on my mind.
Until she walks in with another man.
The hell?
They don’t hold hands, but, judging by the view, it’s a date. To watchFiftyfuckingShades of Grey, no less.
She’s not with the bartender I almost beat down two nights ago. Call it a hunch, but she only flirted with him to throw it in my face after I told her I train Madison. Miles said he heard the guy—West, I think—slept with Emma. No way he gets the time of day.
But this is different. She has no idea I’m here.
This guy has dark hair and a weightlifter’s frame. He’s got on jeans and a button-down that would look casual if it weren’t for the yacht of a watch on his right wrist. It’s hard to tell if it’s a Rolex or a Patek Philippe, but it’s clear he didn’t get it from the mall. I’m around enough millionaire clients to know the difference.
I don’t need night vision to see the stupid grin on his face. The way he looks down at her is the same gaze I had when I was with her, and fuck if this doesn’t hurt. Fancy Watch has his palm on the back of Justice’s shirt dress to guide her to two empty seats in my line of sight.
Fucking great.
My hands fist, and I sit up taller, shifting Madison off my chest.
“Everything okay?”
Nope.
“Yup.” My jaw won’t unclench. What right do I have to care? I’m the one who pushed her away. She’s free to date whoever she wants, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a kick to the dick to see her out with another man.
Justice crosses her legs, exposing knee-high boots and an extra inch of her thigh. She slides closer to Fancy Watch, and he puts his arm around her. My Milk Duds box groans in my grip when I spot a large popcorn between them.
So this is adatedate.
What next, a soda with two straws?
“Terrence?” I turn at the clipped tone in Madison’s whisper. Crap. Was she talking? “Are you okay? We can leave if you’re this uncomfortable.”
I run a hand over my goatee and sigh.Don’t drag her into your shit. “It’s fine.” I give her shoulder a squeeze and reassure her with a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. She searches them and nods before she’s back against my chest.
The movie shines on the screen, but my eyes are on the scene playing out in front of me. The PDA between Justice and Fancy Watch is a slow burn. I should look away, but I can’t.
