52. Drew
DREW
I arrive at her house ten minutes early.
Which is ridiculous. Because this is not a date.
It's just...
Two people.
Going to the movies.
Alone.
On a Friday night.
It just happens to look exactly like one.
I check my watch.
6:50 p.m.
“Just be normal,” I mutter, tugging at my collar.
I tap my fingers against the steering wheel, wondering if I should text Violet to let her know I'm here.
The front door opens… and my mind goes blank.
Violet steps out like she already knew exactly when I’d arrive. Like she knew I’d be early.
She doesn’t rush. Just walks toward the car with that calm confidence that makes it feel like she’s the one who set this whole thing in motion.
I get out before I can think too hard about it.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hi,” she replies, smiling softly.
Her gaze sweeps over me—quick, assessing, lingering just a second too long. “You’re early.”
“I’m punctual.” I smile. “But yes, I’m early.”
Her smile deepens. “I like that.”
I take her hand, guiding her to the passenger side. This time, I open the door for her.
“Thank you,” she says as she slides in.
“Of course.”
I breathe her in. “You look amazing.”
Her smile knocks the air from my lungs.
“Thank you, Drew.”
I close the door, round the car, and get in.
I immediately feel her closeness. The scent of jasmine filling my lungs.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Yes.”
The theater is inside the mall.
Which means it’s full of people. Noise. Movement. And distractions.
Good. I need distractions.
We choose a movie, then I pay for our tickets, popcorn, and drinks.
So far, everything is completely normal.
I’m doing great... until we sit down.
Now, there’s nowhere else to look.
No noise to hide behind.
Just her. Beside me.
Close enough that our arms brush when we both reach for popcorn at the same time.
We both pause.
Then I pull back slightly. “Sorry.”
“You’re not,” she replies calmly.
I swallow. “You’re right. I’m not.”
I suck in a breath, getting lost in the soft purple shade of her eyes. The curve of her lips that makes my heart beat faster.
The movie starts.
She leans back into her seat like nothing just happened.
Like she didn’t feel that spark.
I’m so distracted by her, I barely register what’s happening on the big screen.
I’m too busy being aware of the way her knee shifts slightly toward mine.
The faint brush of her sleeve against my arm.
The way she leans just a little closer as the movie plays.
Her eyes meet mine, and she smiles.
My pulse kicks hard.
Someone a few rows down laughs too loudly.
My attention flicks that way.
Hers doesn’t.
It stays on me.
I shift in my seat.
“Everything okay?” I whisper.
“Yes.”
“You’re not watching the movie.”
“I am.”
“You’re watching me.”
She tilts her head slightly. “Am I?”
“Yes.”
“Does that bother you?”
I hesitate. “…No.”
“Good.”
She smiles, then turns back to the screen like that answers everything.
God, I want to kiss her.
But I chicken out.
What if she doesn’t want me to?
What if I’m reading this wrong?
What if I’m the only one feeling this?
She turns to me. “Drew?”
“Yeah?”
"Are you going to kiss me?"
I stop breathing.
My mouth opens.
Nothing comes out.
Her hand lifts, cupping my face. “Fine. I’ll kiss you.”
Her lips press against mine, soft and sweet, tasting like butter and salt.
For one moment, I still.
The next, every nerve comes alive.
I lift my hand, cradling the back of her head.
And I kiss her like I've been wanting to since I picked her up.
Every coherent thought disappears.
There’s only her.
She sighs against my mouth, her other hand fisting my shirt, pulling me closer.
I lose myself in her jasmine perfume and floral shampoo.
When we finally part, we’re breathing heavily. Our eyes locked together.
“See? You never have to wonder,” she whispers. “I always want you. Just like you want me.”
I swallow hard.
She’s right.
As I settle back in my seat, the realization sweeps over me.
There’s no getting out now.
I’m in too deep.
The terrifying thing is... I don’t want to.