Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
I WANT YOUR CANDY
“Are you for real?!”
I grin as she pops her head into the massive cooler I smuggled into Oakwood’s Cinema Club. Oakwood allows you to purchase snacks from here, but they suck and I have allll the good shit.
For our first real date together, I didn’t want to go to the movies, mostly because the small theater in town is going through a sci-fi phase and that’s not her bag. But a movie seemed like a great idea. I didn’t even know we had a freakin’ cinema club until I snooped around.
When I saw The Goonies was headlining Thanksgiving week, I knew I had a winner on my hands.
“I’m deadly serious,” I joke when I realize she’s still waiting on an answer.
“How did you get these?! Did you pop up to Canada when I wasn’t looking?”
“Magic.”
“Fuck off.”
“I’m being serious. Magic.”
She snags my ear but in a move that isn’t reminiscent of that time she yanked it outside the Pond, she rubs the upper curve of it. When I shudder, she smirks. “Someone likes that even if they aren’t an elf.”
“Maybe I’m fae.”
“Maybe you’re just a human overloading on BS. But I love the BS if you get me the good shit.” She snags one of the wrappers. “Butter tarts?! Holy fuck, maybe you are magical.”
I’m not about to tell her that I bribed one of the kids I went to community college with last year to send me the best stuff. Bribery isn’t magic and that’s all she needs to equate me with Zach = magic. Zach = magic. Zach = magic.
If I say it enough times, she really will never want to get rid of me. Especially if I become her best Canadian snack dealer.
Snorting at the thought, I watch as she rifles through All-Dressed chips, Crispie Crunches, Aeros, Smarties, as well as various other snacks that I’ve introed her and Pecan to over the years.
If I didn’t know this woman had my heart, the face she makes when she unearths the pack of maple sugar candies tells me all I need to know.
When she pops one into her mouth, her eyes close and she hums. “I’m telling you, the stuff from the US just doesn’t compare. It’s good, but this has nuance.”
“Like a fine wine?”
“Precisely.”
I lean in. “Lemme taste?”
Her eyes pop open and pin me in place. I angle my head to the side and flutter my tongue over her lips. When she sighs, her breath’s tinged with maple syrup. Ready for the sugar high of my life, I hum as she lets me slide in deeper so I can savor the taste of maple-tinged Denny.
When the lights suddenly drop in the auditorium, neither of us even notice.
Her head tilts to the side as I loom over her, pressing her into the chair as she toys with my hair, fingers twining in the waves, toiling and twisting in a way that brings every nerve ending in my scalp to life.
But the strange clanking noise from the opening segment in the jailhouse keys me into the fact the movie’s starting and The Goonies is one of D’s faves. So, with great suffering, I pull back.
Her kiss tastes so sweet that my cock is asking the same question as she is: “Why did you stop?”
“Movie’s about to begin.”
Her fingers dig into my nape. “Zach.”
But I tsk at her whining and slide my arm around her shoulders.
“Watch it with me.” I kiss her nose. “You can have your wicked way with me later.”
I feel her eyelashes flutter against my cheek but, thankfully, she withdraws control of my hair.
“Hey! You stole my candy!”
“It was open season. Begging for the taking.” I grab her chin and press a single kiss to her lips then murmur, “Take it, D.” She trembles as I hold the candy with my lips and groans as I thrust it into her mouth.
When I make a final retreat, I tut when she comes back for more. “Watch this with me, beautiful.”
With a grouchy tut and mutters of retribution, she settles against me and wiggles until she’s comfortable. Of course, I’m the opposite, but I’ll suffer like the hero I am in silence.
Grateful she can’t read my thoughts because she’d definitely yank my ear for that, I watch a movie we’ve seen a thousand times together. Hell, I don’t even like this one. I was more of a Cars kinda kid.
It’s different though, watching it with her—like this.
Makes the scenes roll out differently. Like, now my life’s changed, the movie that I know word-for-word has too. I can’t help but feel that’s borderline prophetic, but I’ve seen enough of the Dune movies to know to back the fuck away from prophesies.
D’s snuggled up beside me, her hand on my knee. Nowhere too close to the goods but enough to remind me this is a date. Prior to us being together, she’d never have sagged into me this much. And I love it.
When Sloth shows up on screen, she clucks her tongue in disapproval—she’s never liked how he’s vilified because of his appearance. And when the kids head off with the pirate map, like usual, she mumbles, “Wish we had that much freedom.”
“In the good ol’ days,” I confide, “kids used to get attacked by a family of crooks only when they were in the middle of an adventure.”
“As it should be,” she says with a sniff, but I can see her smile.
And that’s what it’s all about.
Digging into the goodie bag of snacks, I reveal the pièce de résistance…
She gasps loud enough for someone behind us to yell, “Quiet!”
“Pink lemonade?”
“Only the best for my D,” I vow, popping the can as softly as I can.
“Is this my birthday or something and I forgot?”
I drop a kiss to the tip of her nose. “If it is, happy birthday.”
Though she shoves me, it’s not hard enough to spill a drop of her drink. She sighs happily and, once settled at my side, guzzles it down.
It’s the most PG-rated date I’ve ever been on.
It’s also the best date I’ve ever been on.
But that comes as no surprise—I’m with Denny.
Nothing else would make any sense.