grinned. “But I’m going to go anyway.”
Trick chuckled, heading for the shower as Silva called after him. “I don’t know about you two but they got this new Brazilian dancer, and I could settle down with her like a motherfucker.”
For all his bravado, Trick had never even seen Silva talk to a woman, so a lot of this had to be a front. He almost wanted to tell the guy it was okay. That not wanting to be alone and wishing you could find one person you could spend your life with didn’t make you less of a man. In fact, it became clearer to Trick every day he spent with Grace that it made him more of a man.
He tugged off his sweat-soaked workout clothes and cranked the shower up high and hot before stepping under the spray. Too bad Grace hadn’t noticed how much he’d changed. That he was a different person because of her. But she was paying attention now.
To Catman, not to you.
He clenched his jaw, annoyed at the irrational anger he felt toward the alter-ego of his own creation. Just one more date. One more chance to get her to see what it could be like between them, and then he’d tell her the truth.
…
Twenty-five hours and eleven long minutes later, Grace stood at the ticket booth. She loved her job, but this particular Monday had been interminable. She couldn’t wait for this exact moment, but now that it was here, she found herself wishing she had another hour. Or five.
She stared at the marquis and then dug out her wallet to pay the eight dollars to see La Bon Petit . Foreign. Old. Discount. Score. Hopefully no one else would be there so they could…what?
Her hand shook as she took her stub from the attendant.
“Theater number seven,” the pimply kid said with a flash of braces.
She smiled weakly, feeling every bit the dirty, old woman, and hurried across the lobby to the theater. Briefly, she glanced at the concessions stand and wondered if she should get a soda or some Raisinets and then realized how ridiculous that would be. They weren’t going to actually watch the movie.
She looked around and pushed the door open, legs nearly buckling with relief when she saw that she was literally the only person in the theater. Okay, she could do this. She looked around at the empty seats and selected the one in the farthest back corner. It was tucked away so that, even if someone else did come in, they wouldn’t be able to see her from behind them, especially in the dim light.
The trailers began to roll, and she took off her coat. She laid it in the seat beside her before settling in her own chair, the nubby fabric scraping the backs of her bare thighs.
Wear a skirt.
Remembering the silky promise in his voice made her nipples go hard beneath her sweater. Bold. She was so damned bold because she’d gone a step further and left the bra and underwear home too. Fear lanced the burgeoning need, and she wondered if that had been a mistake. Would he think she was being too forward? Would he be annoyed that she’d taken the initiative? Short of leaving and scrapping the whole evening, there wasn’t anything she could do about it now.
And she wasn’t going to do either of those things.
She’d spent the past two hours wondering what they would do in those tiny seats. How he would touch her. If they would tease and stroke until the lights came on and then run out to his car or if they would somehow manage to complete the act right there in the theater. She moaned under her breath as a gush of heat warmed her thighs. The last of the trailers ended, and the room went pitch black before the opening credits lit the screen.
She pulled out her cell phone to check the time. Quarter after nine. He should be here by now, no? But there were no missed calls, and surely he wouldn’t have made the effort to call her, set up a date, and then not show.
The door creaked loudly, and she tensed, staring at the sliver of light anxiously. Would she be able to see his face? Or would she have to wait until the movie was
Trick chuckled, heading for the shower as Silva called after him. “I don’t know about you two but they got this new Brazilian dancer, and I could settle down with her like a motherfucker.”
For all his bravado, Trick had never even seen Silva talk to a woman, so a lot of this had to be a front. He almost wanted to tell the guy it was okay. That not wanting to be alone and wishing you could find one person you could spend your life with didn’t make you less of a man. In fact, it became clearer to Trick every day he spent with Grace that it made him more of a man.
He tugged off his sweat-soaked workout clothes and cranked the shower up high and hot before stepping under the spray. Too bad Grace hadn’t noticed how much he’d changed. That he was a different person because of her. But she was paying attention now.
To Catman, not to you.
He clenched his jaw, annoyed at the irrational anger he felt toward the alter-ego of his own creation. Just one more date. One more chance to get her to see what it could be like between them, and then he’d tell her the truth.
…
Twenty-five hours and eleven long minutes later, Grace stood at the ticket booth. She loved her job, but this particular Monday had been interminable. She couldn’t wait for this exact moment, but now that it was here, she found herself wishing she had another hour. Or five.
She stared at the marquis and then dug out her wallet to pay the eight dollars to see La Bon Petit . Foreign. Old. Discount. Score. Hopefully no one else would be there so they could…what?
Her hand shook as she took her stub from the attendant.
“Theater number seven,” the pimply kid said with a flash of braces.
She smiled weakly, feeling every bit the dirty, old woman, and hurried across the lobby to the theater. Briefly, she glanced at the concessions stand and wondered if she should get a soda or some Raisinets and then realized how ridiculous that would be. They weren’t going to actually watch the movie.
She looked around and pushed the door open, legs nearly buckling with relief when she saw that she was literally the only person in the theater. Okay, she could do this. She looked around at the empty seats and selected the one in the farthest back corner. It was tucked away so that, even if someone else did come in, they wouldn’t be able to see her from behind them, especially in the dim light.
The trailers began to roll, and she took off her coat. She laid it in the seat beside her before settling in her own chair, the nubby fabric scraping the backs of her bare thighs.
Wear a skirt.
Remembering the silky promise in his voice made her nipples go hard beneath her sweater. Bold. She was so damned bold because she’d gone a step further and left the bra and underwear home too. Fear lanced the burgeoning need, and she wondered if that had been a mistake. Would he think she was being too forward? Would he be annoyed that she’d taken the initiative? Short of leaving and scrapping the whole evening, there wasn’t anything she could do about it now.
And she wasn’t going to do either of those things.
She’d spent the past two hours wondering what they would do in those tiny seats. How he would touch her. If they would tease and stroke until the lights came on and then run out to his car or if they would somehow manage to complete the act right there in the theater. She moaned under her breath as a gush of heat warmed her thighs. The last of the trailers ended, and the room went pitch black before the opening credits lit the screen.
She pulled out her cell phone to check the time. Quarter after nine. He should be here by now, no? But there were no missed calls, and surely he wouldn’t have made the effort to call her, set up a date, and then not show.
The door creaked loudly, and she tensed, staring at the sliver of light anxiously. Would she be able to see his face? Or would she have to wait until the movie was
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