Page 3 of Perfectly Us
There’s that frown again. “Damn. This is hard.”
I smile and bump his shoulder. “It was your idea, dummy.”
As customers start coming in for the late-night shows, Ruben returns to the concession stand, and I clean the last few theaters by myself.
And it’s then, as I’m leaving one of the auditoriums, broom in hand and singing a song fromThe Greatest Showmanunder my breath, that someone slams into me.
“Shit!” he says, grabbing onto me before I can topple over. “Sorry.”
Now, when I said earlier I wanted some handsome guy to knock me off my feet, I didn’t mean literally. But here I am, staring at averyhot guy who almost knocked me off my feet and right onto my ass.
Dark brown hair falls a little into his face, and his eyes are so blue they look fake. Maybe they are. I don’t know.
“It’s okay.” I take a step back from him and look up at the theater he came barreling out of. “You like action movies, huh?”
“Yeah. I do.” He cracks a smile and runs a hand through the back of his hair. “I’ve been waiting for this one to release for months.”
I want to ask if he came with anyone, but that would be weird. He’s a good-looking guy. I’m sure he has some girl waiting for him.
“Where were you off to so fast?” I ask. Because he’s cute, and I’m a massive flirt.
“To get a soda and popcorn,” he says, still with that soft smile. There’s something shy about it. “I know it’ll cost me a small fortune, but you can’t go to a movie without it.”
“Fifteen bucks for a drink and bag of popcorn should be a crime.”
“Are you supposed to say that?” He squints his eyes.
“Probably not.” I return his smile. “I’m Alex, by the way.”
“I see that.” He glances at my name tag before turning around. “Have a good night, Alex.”
“Rude,” I say. “You nearly knocked me on my ass. The least you can do is tell me your name. It’s polite.”
He stops and looks at me over his shoulder, dark hair falling over his brow. “It’s Shiloh.”
Shiloh.
I’ve never met anyone with that name before.
As he continues toward the concession stand, I put my broom up and wash my hands before standing behind the podium to tear tickets and direct people to their theater. Shiloh and I make eye contact as he walks past me minutes later, drink and popcorn in hand.
That small smile returns to his face as he turns away and heads down the hall.
I work until close, so I stay until everyone exits the theater. I don’t see Shiloh again. He probably left when I was upstairs locking up the projection room. I get home around midnight and try my best to be quiet as I unlock the door and slip inside.
Living with my parents isn’t horrible. They give me privacy and don’t hover too much. But I’m looking forward to living on campus when I start college in a few months.
The stairs creak as I go up them.
“Alex?” Dad says from his study. Light spills out from under the cracked door. I’m not surprised he’s still awake. He’s like me in that sense. A night owl.
“Yes, sir?” I pop my head into the study. He’s sitting on a couch in the corner of the room, tie loosened and sleeves pushed up as he glances over a stack of papers. People say I look just like him. Same light brown hair and green eyes. I have my mom’s nose though, they say, and her soft features.
“How was work?” he asks, his gaze fixated on the documents.
“Busy, but okay.”
“Good.”
