10. Spider-Man
10
Spider-Man
Despite the teasing, unassuming comment, Tori shrunk behind me. “Sorry,” she squeaked. “I did like the movie.”
The coworker snickered.
Spider-Man waved it off. “That’s okay. Happens all the time.”
“She’s studying to be a nurse,” I said. “And, like us, she’s on her feet most of the day.”
“No wonder she’s tired. Plus, who doesn’t like a comfy chair and some darkness? The temptation is almost too much.” He smiled at me.
Heart hammering, I sauntered closer. The temptation was too much. “I’d certainly succumb to it.”
Tori hurried by so quickly a breeze flared my skirt. “Sorry, I have to use the washroom. I’ll meet you in the lobby in a few minutes.”
“Okay. Did you want…” And she was gone. I giggled and turned to my man, swaying my hips.
He nodded to the other guy, who slipped past us to clean up in the theater.
I flipped my hair. “Guess she thought we should be alone.”
Spider-Man shrugged. “Or my friend and I don’t measure up to the guys on screen.”
“She didn’t even see them.” I tapped my toes on his non-slip black shoes. “I’m a fan of what’s in front of me.”
A wide smile lit up his face, but he lowered his head. “Well. This is embarrassing.”
“Why?” Was I coming on too strong? Did he have a partner? Or were we supposed to stick to cat-and-mouse games and not actually pursue anything?
Pink tinged his cheeks as he ruffled his bangs. “I can’t think of anything to reply that isn’t super cheesy. But obviously, you’re a leading lady.”
I clasped my hands. “Aww, does that mean you think I’m pretty?”
“Yes.” He blinked affectionately. “Among other things.”
Did he see the strength of a ‘final girl’ in me? Warmth crept up my collar and tickled my cheeks. I twisted away. “Okay, maybe this is kind of embarrassing.”
We laughed and strolled towards the lobby. Side by side like this, I itched to take his hand, but I rarely did that with real boyfriends, let alone guys I’d just met. There were a few things I needed to know before I jumped him.
“So, are you committed?” I asked, twiddling my necklace.
“To an institution?”
I snorted and gestured to milling couples and families. “To a person. Would anyone seek revenge if we flirted in public?”
“No. Although there is a very important woman in my life,” he said. His ominous tone smeared ash on my fantasies.
“Is it your mother?” It’d be kinda hard to fuck a guy who brought that up.
He shook his head and stopped to lean on the stair banister. “This lady and I spend a lot of time together, though.” He jerked his head up to give his bangs more lift.
“So, you’re friends?” Please don’t let it be more than that, I prayed.
Mischief lit his eyes as he slid closer. His fingers marched across the rail towards me. “I wouldn’t say we’re friends. She lost her husband. She’s probably lonely, and that’s why she hangs out so much.” He arched his brow, self-satisfied with his announcement.
My heart raced in my ears. What exactly was he implying? “Are you talking about a fuck buddy?”
“No, sorry.” He flushed, retracting his hand. “I was referencing—”
Then, it hit me.
The crawling fingers. His head motion. A widow who ‘hung out.’ Right above us.
I covered my flaming cheeks. “Oh my god. You were talking about the spider.”
How did I not get the reference? It was the easiest pun. He even gave me hints.
“I thought you were her biggest fan,” he said. “You saw her movie twice. Well, in two halves. We might have to rethink your VIP status.” He let out a shaky laugh and stretched against the railing.
I desperately wanted to smack his arm just to get a feel for it. “Maybe I should make an offering to appease her,” I said.
“Young, virile men?” He flexed his forearms against his rolled-up sleeves.
“I’d rather keep one of them.” I pressed my hip against the railing.
His thumb grazed my ass. It could’ve been an accident, but his dark eyes implied otherwise. I leaned into his touch, reveling in the prickle of electricity between us.
“Katalina,” he whispered my name, rolling my skirt between his fingers like a plaid rosary.
I shivered. People only used that name when I was in trouble. And I definitely was, but I wanted him to know the real me better. “You can call me Kat. Or Miss Silver.” I smiled, reaching for the card key ID hanging from his belt. “I liked that.”
Did I want to pull him in for a kiss or to twist the ID and find out his name?
“Kat. Or Miss Silver,” he purred. “How may I be of service? Is there somewhere you need access?”
His fingers tickled the back of my thighs, asking permission.
Fuck a name. I liked mysteries well enough.
Just as I began to close my eyes and lean, he bolted off the railing and stood up straight. He adjusted his belt with ferocious determination to smother out our moment. “Hey, welcome back," he said tightly.
My heart slingshot against my ribcage. Was he talking to a customer?
“Hi,” Tori squeaked from around the staircase. “Sorry, I can wash my hands again.”
“That shouldn’t be necessary. We were just talking about spiders and ritual sacrifices.” He cleared his throat and gestured to the widow hanging above us. “Have you seen that movie yet? Or slept through it, perhaps?”
“No.” She pouted. Her naps seemed to be a sore spot today.
“She offered to see it with me,” I said, my lips half numb from lack of contact.
“That’s nice. My sister studied the trailer, but she—well, it doesn’t matter.” He sniffed and gestured to the spider. “Do you want a picture on the stairs with our lady? She’s fairly tame, I promise. We fed her an annoying guest at five, so she should be set for the night.”
I laughed and pushed his arm. “Can I volunteer someone for your next victim? I have this coworker—”
Tori stared at me, aghast, though my man wasn’t fazed.
“Uh, never mind. I’ll save my nomination for shoplifters,” I said. I probably shouldn’t talk about any underlings like that, even if they were pains in my ass. I handed him my phone. “You can use this.”
He bowed. “Thank you, Miss Silver.”
The rattle of his tongue might as well have been against my slit. No one had ever turned me on like this. Any casual interaction turned my nerves on end.
Heart racing, I bounded up the stairs with Tori.
“Did I interrupt something?” she whispered.
“Just some good, old-fashioned flirting. Now, let’s worship our queen.” I threw my arms up towards The Widow in exaltation, reveling in my Spider-Man’s attention. He smiled at us and angled the camera.
Tori joined me for more wary poses, so I grabbed her and held on, mugging for the camera. In one photo, I pretended to sacrifice her. In another, I protected her. I had to keep her on her toes.
We returned to him just as a big family walked up to the admissions line.
He glanced at them and slipped me my phone. “I have to get back to work. I hope those photos work out for you, though.”
“I’m sure they will," I said.
He walked backwards and slow-blinked at me. “Oh, and I might’ve added my contact information.”
“You did?” I grinned.
“In case you need a willing victim.” His eyes glinted as he slunk away.
I caressed my phone. What a wonderfully weird person. He thought he was the victim, but I was the one all tangled up in feelings for a stranger.