EnjoytheShow (4 page)
Authors: Erika Almond
Miles pulled himself together fast and wrapped the condom in
a concession napkin to be tossed with our empty popcorn bucket. Me, I was still
kind of dazed, so he took my panties from where I’d draped them over my bag,
knelt down and held them as I stepped into them. After he pulled them on, he
sat back in his theater seat and began buttoning my dress from the bottom up. I
liked being attended to. I could’ve gotten used to it.
This was a thought I put down quick. He was an actor,
passing through town. He probably lived in LA and wouldn’t be sticking around
for long. I’d been hurting and so had he. Even with all the tenderness he’d
shown me, I wasn’t about to play a trick on myself that he would stay. The
question of whether I was worth it didn’t come up. Of course I was. That was
beside the point.
The lights came up, the movie, and our time together,
apparently over. When we walked out of our row, Miles went down to the edge of
the balcony and looked over it. I got the willies again just watching him. “I
love this old theater,” he said, leaning on the railing. “Even more so now.” He
looked to his side and then behind him. “What are you doing all the way over
there?”
Half of the truth was that I’d grown so partial to Miles
over these past two or so hours that I couldn’t stand next to him, knowing the
only way I’d see him from now on was on the Hawthorne Cinema Palace’s movie
screen. I told him the other half of the truth. “Fear of heights.”
He walked up to me, held out his hand, and even though I
knew what he was doing, I took it. He led me down toward the edge but I shied a
few steps away from it.
Then Miles went behind me. I felt those muscled arms that
had cradled me and crushed me with passion wrapping around me. “Walk with me,
cowgirl,” he said.
He stood behind me, his arms steady around my waist, and he
took me to the edge of the balcony. He didn’t make any jokey moves to throw me
over, just held me sweet and strong. “Your eyes open?” he said, lips brushing
my ear.
“Wide,” I told him. I clutched on to his arms but I smiled
as I looked out over the open space of the theater. Stars in constellations
twinkled at me from the domed ceiling. We were standing under the Big Dipper,
painted in gilded lines. I smiled with wonder, feeling safe enough in Miles’
arms to take in the entire magical universe of the theater. I’d never been able
to see how big it was, or to feel the possibilities that came with standing at
the edge. I’d always been scared to feel that. With Miles, scary had a lot of
potential. But the kind of potential that seemed real, even under a pretend sky
at a movie theater.
“Hang on a sec,” I called to Miles in the lobby. “I have to
fill out my movie opinion card.”
He rolled his eyes. “Just throw it in the garbage, where the
movie belongs.”
I leaned on the glass top of the concession stand and filled
out the card, which had space for general comments.
The movie was crap,
I
wrote,
but that blond guy Masterson was good. Give him a decent picture.
When
I stood up I bumped against Miles, who’d been reading over my shoulder. “Hey,
no peeking.”
“Now you’re shy?” He grinned. I poked him in the ribs,
welcoming the opportunity to hide what was becoming a big hurt spot in the
center of me. I’d already said one goodbye today. I wasn’t looking forward to
this one, just because our time together had been shorter and a hell of a lot
more pleasant.
Outside, the heat of midday had mellowed into something
tolerably warm, about the temperature of a marshmallow in a S’more. Miles
looked at the sparkly pavement in front of the theater. “Guess you got him back
for whatever he did.”
“Who what?”
“The situation guy.”
“Is that what you think this was all about?” I demanded.
“There’s something about me you should know. I’m not above hitting a man who
insults me, or a man who insults himself. In terms of vengeance, all that fool
rated was me spitting on the sidewalk, and I didn’t even bother.” I took Miles’
square chin in my hand, daylight showing me a slight cleft where my thumb fit
nicely. “What happened in there was mine,” I said. Then my eyes narrowed. “Was
that about your ex?”
“I don’t even know who you’re talking about,” Miles said,
putting my arms around his neck and his around my waist to pull our bodies
together. There was no rating high enough on an evaluation card for the kiss he
gave me.
When we parted, he noticed the words written on my inner
forearm. He spoke them aloud in his dusky voice. “‘To thine own self be true.’”
Then he kissed each word. “Wish I’d had this with me before I took that stupid
movie,” he said.
“Kept you from waiting tables, didn’t it?” I asked. He
admitted as much with a nod. “It’s a start,” I said. “You’ve got what it takes.
You can go somewhere, if you want.”
“I know it,” he said, with confidence. Then he looked into
my eyes and smiled. “Doesn’t mean I couldn’t use some company along the way.
Maybe somebody to stick this tattoo in my face every now and again. And if you
got afraid of heights,” he said, kissing my forehead, “I’d hang on to you.
Tight.”
I swallowed hard. I felt as though I were at the edge of the
balcony all over again. “Tempting.”
Miles nodded. “Think you could stand watching that piece of
crap again?” I looked up at him and he continued. “The premiere’s next week, in
New York City. I need a date.” He leaned down and kissed me, soft and not long
enough. “A fierce date.” He brushed my lips. “A fierce redheaded date who wears
shit-kicking boots.”
I couldn’t take his teasing anymore, or I had to shut him up
before I said yes, so I kissed him, hungry for him all over. We made out until
some passing yahoo muttered, “Get a room.”
Miles laughed. “That’ll seem boring after today.” He wrapped
a section of my hair around his hand again and mused, “Or not.”
Still hanging in the air was an answer I hadn’t given. “Next
Friday,” Miles prompted. “Think about it. I’ll be near, right over in Reynard
with my folks. They’re coming to the premiere with me. You could ride down with
all of us. Be fun.”
“You’ve got it all scripted out, haven’t you?” I said.
He nodded. “I do indeed. And your next line is, ‘Yes.’”
“Well, that’s not very dramatic,” I told him. “Let me
improvise.” With that, I stood on the toes of my cowgirl boots, which were good
for stomping out of a bad situation, and possibly for taking a leap of faith,
and I kissed him.
Erika Almond is the secret identity of a multi-published
author. A mild-mannered former rock journalist, Erika now uses her powers to
write super-sexy love stories. Visit her blog and follow her adventures on
Twitter.
Erika welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email addresses on her
author
bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
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Ellora’s Cave Publishing
Enjoy the Show
ISBN 9781419949746
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Enjoy the Show Copyright © 2013 Erika Almond
Edited by Beverly Horne
Cover design by Syneca
Cover photography by Vishstudio/shutterstock.com
Electronic book publication December 2013
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