Chapter Seventeen
Pick and Mix
“How did you find this place?” I ask Noah. “I’ve lived here my entire life and I’ve never been to this cinema.”
I stare at the old Art Deco-style cinema which is straight ahead of us, my fingers laced through Noah’s as we walk along the pavement. It’s tucked into the middle of a street, nestled between shopfronts, but the entrance is lit up in old-school lights, with the word “CINEMA” glowing brightly in vintage signage.
“Probably because you didn’t want to drive forty minutes from home to see a film?” he says, flashing me a smile.
I chuckle. “You have a point.”
Noah has found a quaint cinema that is a bit of a drive from Wintersmith Hall—and we passed multiple towns with bigger, more modern ones on our way here. But this cinema—which Noah said has only two screens—is the one he picked for our date tonight.
I smile happily. He told me over dinner that he found a cinema that had been renovated and had been around since the thirties, and if I didn’t mind the drive, he thought it would make for a cool experience for our first date.
Did I mind?
Far from it. In fact, my heart melted from the thought he put into making our first date something special.
So of course I told him I would love to go. Then again, I’d go anywhere Noah asked me to.
Even more so after he told me what a butterfly meant to him.
Warmth rushes through me as I review our date so far. We chatted easily on the drive to a pub, where we continued our conversation over dinner. Noah was recognised a few times and posed for some selfies with fans. I could tell it made him uncomfortable, and he apologised profusely after each interruption. I reassured him it didn’t matter—and teased him by saying I was more annoyed that nobody wanted a selfie with Lady Violet, but only with Saucy Shorts, and that made him flush with embarrassment.
Is there anything more endearing than watching this sexy footballer blush?
No,I think with a smile, there’s not.
We walk up the steps to the cinema, and I marvel that it’s still in business. I wonder whether it will be like stepping into the past once we go inside.
“You’re quiet. What are you thinking?” Noah asks.
“I’m amazed this place is still operating,” I confess. “There’s something special about that fact in today’s world of the mega-cinema complexes.”
“I know. I was surprised when I found it,” he says, reaching the queue for tickets.
On this Wednesday evening, there are only two people in front of us, so we get behind them. And indeed, there are only two films showing tonight. One is the action thriller that we decided to see. The other is a production of the National Theatre Live.
Soon it’s our turn, and Noah purchases two tickets for us. We move towards the entrance, and he pauses at the door and opens it for me. “After you.”
I step through first, and as soon as I do, I’m completely and utterly charmed by the Art Deco interior. The lobby is small, with polished black marble floors and the cutest concession stand I have ever seen. It’s tiny, and only one person is manning it right now. All of the items and prices are listed on a board hanging on the wall, and unlike the modern cinemas, it’s very limited. They have popcorn, of course—I can smell it the moment we walk inside. I can hear it, too, popping away behind the counter. They also have fizzy drinks and a small selection of sweets at the till.
“Ooh, they have frozen Coke!” I say excitedly. “I haven’t had one of those in ages. “I might have to get one to go with the pick and mix. It’s a rule that you have to have something to eat and drink at the cinema.”
Noah releases his hand from mine and places it against the small of my back, and goosebumps sweep over my skin when I feel his fingertips move against it.
“A rule?” he asks.
I look up at him, finding those warm espresso-brown eyes gazing down at me.
“I can’t watch a film without eating something. Otherwise, it’s weird.”
“It’s weird to not eat in the cinema?”
“Noah, you need to know the rules,” I tease as he hands our tickets to the attendant.
“You’ll be in screen one,” the attendant says, handing Noah the stubs. “Enjoy the show.”
“Thank you,” we both say.
Noah turns to me again. “Back to the rules. I thought they were to keep your phone on silent and no talking.”
“I can see you need to be educated in the real rules of going to the cinema.”
He grins. “Oh, you mean the Butterfly Rules?”
My pulse immediately quickens when he says that. His hand glides slowly up and down my back, his eyes locked with mine.
“You know what I mean by that,” he says, his voice gentle. “I want to know your rules, as Violet. As the Butterfly I know.”
I can’t find the words. I can’t.
Noah is making it clear he doesn’t see me in the way my family does.
“Thank you,” I manage to say, “for making the butterfly label a good thing.”
“It is,” he says, his voice low. “A very good thing.”
I want to kiss him. But that would be a bit weird in the middle of a cinema lobby, so I refrain.
“So tell me the Butterfly Rules,” Noah says, still rubbing my back.
Right. Cinema rules.
“Well,” I say, working very hard to focus on our conversation, “you must eat at the cinema, or it’s a wasted experience.”
“Got it.”
“You have to arrive in time for the previews. Because previews are fun,” I declare.
“Okay. What else?”
“Well, you know the other one. Pick and mix enhances any cinema-going experience.”
“Oh, I know. That’s why I did my due diligence and confirmed this cinema had pick and mix.” He inclines his head to the right, and sure enough, I see the small pick and mix station set up against the wall.
I feel nothing but pure elation inside. Noah did all of this for me. He looked for a unique place to watch a movie to make our date special, but also made sure it had the sweets I mentioned in the first conversation we shared together.
“You are making this the best first date ever,” I tell him happily.
“Good,” Noah says, smiling at me. “Besides, I’m determined to pass this test. Come on, let’s go get some.”
I swear I’m floating as we purchase our pick and mix cups and drinks—a water for Noah and a frozen Coke for me—and then walk across the small lobby towards the sweets. My mind is buzzing with happiness the entire time.
How is Noah real? How is a professional footballer so thoughtful and so attentive? Hell, how is any man this way? I think back to old boyfriends I had at St. Andrews and guys I’ve dated since graduation.
None of them were anything close to being like Noah.
We reach the pick and mix display and set our drinks down on a bench not far from it. Then we stand in front of the bins, with all kinds of sweetie goodness beckoning to be selected.
“All right. The moment of truth has come. You are the judge and jury of my pick and mix choices. Will I pass your test?”
He. Is. So. Cute.
“Now, keep in mind I already know your thoughts on stretchy snakes and milk teeth,” I say. “I approve of those, but because I know them, they cannot count towards your final score.”
“Oh, there’s scoring?” Noah asks, now looking really amused.
“Absolutely. For every correct sweet, you get a point. For every poor choice, I deduct a point. You should score at least five to pass the Butterfly Test.”
“I see. What do I get if I score five points?”
“The Violet Seal of Approval. It’s hard to get, so choose carefully, Saucy Shorts.”
Noah groans and I grin. He’s utterly adorable when he gets embarrassed.
He starts studying the bins, and I watch in delight as he begins to contemplate what to put in his cup. “All right. I have to get some fizzy cola bottles.” He puts some into his container.
“Yes!” I cry excitedly. “Those are excellent. One point.”
“All right. Four to go.”
I chuckle as Noah peruses his options.
“Jelly beans,” he says, adding those to his cup. He pauses and looks at me. “Contrast in shape and texture is important, you know.”
I burst out laughing, and he laughs, too.
“You are at two points now,” I tell him.
“Sweet. Three more points and I have this locked up,” Noah teases.
I watch as he adds stretchy snakes and milk teeth, but as I told him before, those aren’t eligible for points.
“Now some chocolate to balance it out,” he declares, pointing the tongs in his hand at me. “Chocolate beanies for sure.”
I know I’m beaming at him. “Your selections have been on point, Noah. Even if your packing skills are lacking.”
He furrows his brow and looks at me. “What?”
“There’s a strategic way to pack your cup so you get the most sweets in there for your money. Don’t worry. I’ll show you how to do it. But go on. Continue your selections.”
Noah’s lips curve up into a sensual, playful smile. “You wouldn’t share your tips at the party. Are you willing to share them with me now?”
I suck in a breath. He really did remember everything I talked about that night.
And why, why, why does he look so kissable right now?
“If you pass the test,” I say, flirting with him, “and earn my seal of approval, one of the rewards will be a personal lesson in how to pack your cup to fit in the most sweets.”
“What’s the other reward?” he asks, gazing down at me through his fringe of dark lashes.
“A kiss.”
Noah’s gaze instantly drops to my mouth. I find myself burning hot from the intensity in his dark eyes.
“I could throw in pink mice and cherries to get your approval right now, but that wouldn’t be a fair assessment of my selection game, would it?”
My brain is scrambled from the sexy way he’s toying with me, but I manage to rally. “No. It needs to be your pick. And mix,” I tease.
We both laugh.
“Very well. What else to add,” he says, turning his gaze away from me and back to the bins. He selects a sweet I don’t like, so I deduct a point. Noah makes a valiant argument for the sour peach rings, but I refuse to concede on that. He did earn a point back with his choice of duo fudge, however.
“Two more points to go,” I tell him.
“The pressure. It’s like taking a penalty kick.”
“You should feel pressure. This is very serious,” I quip.
“I’m blocking you out so I can concentrate.”
I snicker at that, and he smiles.
“Oh, these are a must,” he says. “Toffee bonbons.”
“Ooh, so close. One more point.”
“Right,” Noah says, carefully studying the bins in front of him. “All right. strawberry lips for the win.”
I grin as he adds a bunch to his cup. “I knew you’d do it! You’re right. strawberry lips are a must. So you have officially earned five points and have qualified for the Violet Banfield pick and mix seal of approval.”
“When can I claim my kiss?” he asks, his voice low.
Ooh!
“No, no, first you need to see how you’re packing your sweets all wrong,” I say playfully.
Noah groans and I ignore him.
“Now this is my patented, time-tested technique to get as many sweets as possible in your cup. I can’t do it tonight because it crams the cup full and makes it impossible to eat here in the cinema, but it’s perfect for when you are in a shop and getting some to take home.”
Noah’s face is lit up in amusement and I’m proud that I’m the one making him smile like that.
“Understood. Go on.”
I explain how you pack the softer items at the bottom, and you always tamp it down as you go to get more space.
“Then you stand the strawberry and crème cables upright, around the edges when your cup is pretty full, and that leaves a hole in the middle for more sweets. This is where I put the fudge,” I say.
“Right.”
“And I always put the bonbons and chocolate beanies on top to finish.”
“But does that really give you more sweets, or is it just arranged differently?”
“No, it absolutely does,” I insist.
“Hmm. We might have to try this again, but weigh our contents to see who got more.”
“I will accept that challenge.”
“Go on, Violet, pick yours.”
I don’t move. I hesitate for a moment, gather my courage, and then speak from my heart.
“Noah?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re the only man I’ve given this test to,” I say softly. “I’ve wanted this date for a long time. It’s always been a dream date for me, as stupid as that sounds. Because I wanted to go out with someone who could be fun and silly and just enjoy something as simple as picking sweets and watching a film together. I wasn’t sure I’d ever find someone who would embrace this part of me. The part that can be completely silly and ridiculous. But you did. And I know in my heart that I was only meant to have this date with you.”
Noah appears surprised by my words. He takes a moment, and then clears his throat before speaking.
“I like this side of you,” he says softly. “You’re fun, Violet. You make me laugh. It’s been so long since I’ve done anything like this, and now I see it’s something that has been missing from my life. I feel so good when I’m around you. You make me want to break out of this damn cage I’ve put myself in and do things like fill a cup with pick and mix and pass a test about it. So I need to thank you. Thank you for saving this date for me.”
I can’t breathe. There’s so much in what he just said, things I want to know more about, questions I want to ask—but now isn’t the time or place for it. But the fact that Noah sees this date in the same way that I do—that it’s something special—causes happiness to surge through me.
“You know I’m a big fan of previews,” I say.
Noah’s expression turns from serious to quizzical. “Yes.”
“Well, you get a kiss as your reward for passing the test, but would you like a little preview of that before the film?”
Noah’s eyes light up as I throw my reservations about kissing a man in a cinema lobby aside. A tingling sensation ripples through me as he closes the space between us.
“I’m a huge fan of a preview,” he says in a low voice as he links his hands behind my back.
I grin and link my own hands around the back of his neck, my empty cup resting against his back. “You’re taking your chances. I’m wearing red lipstick that is going to transfer to your lips.”
“I’ll wear your mark,” he declares.
Ooh!
Then he brushes his mouth gently against mine for a brief kiss.
The sensation of his lips on my own causes my body to grow hot. Noah lifts his head, and I chuckle as I see I have indeed left my mark on him.
I take one hand and gently drag my thumb across his lower lip, and my pulse twitches as I wipe away traces of my lipstick from his mouth.
“It’s a good thing it’s going to be dark in there because I can’t quite make all of this disappear,” I say.
Noah smiles underneath my fingertips, causing my stomach to tingle in response.
“I don’t care. Now come on, get your sweets. I need to know your blend for future reference.”
Future reference.
He’s feeling this date as much as I am,I think happily.
Oddly enough, for the first time in my life, I suddenly find myself not caring about my pick and mix. Suddenly I can’t wait for the movie to end before it even begins.
Because I can’t wait to be alone with Noah at the end of the night.
And kiss him for hours on end.