Page 18 of What Is Love
Not that he seemed to notice or care. He looked relieved.
His hand left my knee as he faced the big screen. There was still time before the movie started. People were still coming in and finding where to sit. We had chosen seats a few rows from the back. Brandon wanted to sit in the very back row, but I was uncomfortable with that. We were seeing a horror movie. With it being the middle of the day, I didn’t foresee a lot ofpeople filling the theater. Being isolated all the way in the back row in a dark room with him was something I wanted to avoid. Especially after how handsy he’d gotten Friday night. I’d made up an excuse about not being able to see. It was pathetic, but he’d compromised.
He held out the bucket of buttery popcorn to me. “Want some?”
I put my hand on my stomach. “I had a large brunch with my mother. I’m still so full, I couldn’t eat another bite,” I lied.
He seemed to accept that and returned his attention to the screen, which was advertising all the delicious-looking junk we had just seen at the concession stand. Brandon grabbed a whole fistful of popcorn and started stuffing it into his mouth. I reached for the water bottle I’d gotten as my drink and unscrewed the cap. As I took sips from it, I glanced around the theater. My eyes caught on a man wearing a jean vest that I’d seen the Haven’s Rebels wear coming up the stairs behind a lady with wild but beautiful, long, curly brown hair. I took in the patches he had sewn on the front of his vest. On one side, above his heart, was a logo. It was a front view of a masked skeleton riding a motorcycle. Above it saidHaven’sand below it saidRebels. On the other side of the vest was a patch that readPresident. I was pretty sure that meant he was the leader or boss of the Haven’s Rebels.
I was a little in awe even as I was nervous. Some people liked to call the Haven’s Rebels a gang. There were a lot of rumors about them. Rarely good ones.
The MC president looked young. He had to be in his late thirties to early forties, and was tall with a muscular build. His hair was bright blond and long enough to be pulled back into a man bun. His beard was a few inches long but looked well kept. His arms and the tops of his hands were fully covered in tattoos. He wore leather and silver chain bracelets on one wrist, a blackwedding band on his left hand, and chunky silver rings on his right.
“Want to sit in the back?” I heard the lady with him ask.
“Sure,” he replied as he scanned the theater. His gaze landed on me for a split second before continuing on. Then it doubled back to me. His eyes locked with mine. I could have sworn his widened before he stumbled a little on his way up the stairs.
The lady he was with glanced back at him with a smile. “You gotta lift those legs, Bram.”
“Keep moving,” he grumbled back, making her chuckle.
I faced the screen and busied myself by putting the cap back on my water bottle. It had been rude to stare at him like that, and yet I was tempted to do it again. Especially when he and the lady, who I assumed was his wife, sat in the rowrightbehind us.
“I thought it’d be busier,” I heard the lady say.
“Scary movies are better at night,” the MC president responded. His voice reminded me of thunder. It was deep, rumbly, and drew attention when heard.
“True,” the lady said back. She had a softer, calming voice.
The lights dimmed and the trailers started. Brandon commented on a few of the upcoming movies by whispering which ones he thought looked good or bad. I couldn’t remember a single one or the beginning of the movie. All I could focus on was the feeling like I was being watched by the intimidating man sitting behind me.
Midway through the movie, the main character, who was a sorority girl, was making out with her boyfriend on her bed while the killer murdered one of her sorority sisters downstairs. Brandon leaned close and his hand found its way back onto my knee. “Are you scared?” he whispered, lips close to my ear.
I shook my head.
The couple on the screen began stripping and it was obvious where things were headed. Moans filled the theater.
I wanted to roll my eyes.Typical slasher.
Brandon’s hand moved up to my inner thigh and his lips touched my ear. “This is kinda hot.”
I gave him a stiff smile and returned my attention to the screen, hoping he’d take the gentle rejection.
He didn’t.
I should have known better than to hope.
His lips grazed my ear again as he whispered, “I want to kiss you so bad.”
Eyes unblinking and pinned to the movie screen, not seeing a damn thing, I kept still. I didn’t know how to respond.
“Lottie.” His hand came up to grasp my chin as if to turn my face toward his.
I quickly grabbed him by the wrist, stopping him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. I only turned my head slightly to look at him, but not enough for him to kiss me or whatever else he had been planning to do. He was frowning and I knew I had messed up. “I’m sorry.” I felt so stuck, I had to blink away the burn in my eyes.
His expression was harsh and his eyes were narrowed as he stared back at me. Then he pulled away to sit right in his seat. He gave his attention back to the screen with a still-annoyed look on his face. Tension began to build between us, and I could feel myself spiraling into a full-on panic. He was upset. Mother would find out.
Before I started freaking out right then and there, I got up.
