Page 91 of Shots Fired
“Do you even like this kind of film?” she asks with a raised brow as she takes a tentative step forward.
Up until last night, when she told me about her obsession with history surrounding the Enigma code—more specifically the codebreakers in England who had helped to break it—I hadn’t heard of the actors, never mind the movie. That was nothing I couldn’t quickly fix with an internet search.
“Truthfully …” I wince and drop my head when a few people walk past us. “I’m more of a sci-fi guy.”
“I like that genre too,” she says, peering around me to see how busy it is inside. “If we’re going to do this, then we need to go now; it’s quiet in there.”
I reach out and take her hand in mine, and she gasps, pulling it away.
“Archer! If we pretend like tonight isn’t a date, then we can at least pass this off as two friends heading to watch a film.” Her eyes go even wider. “I mean, this is a date, right?”
My lips are on hers before I can even stop myself. “It’s a date, Darcy. They’ve all been dates to me.”
“We’re going to get caught,” she sings against my mouth.
“Not if we’re careful,” I reply. “Plus, they have Bugles.”
I feel her moan into my mouth.
“I really want Bugles. I think Pip does too.”
Being anything other than careful, I bring my palm to her stomach. There are so many layers between us, but it doesn’t prevent the fizz of electricity I feel whenever I touch her.
“Come on. Let’s get inside so I can geek out with my girl and then take her back to my bed straight afterward.”
Five minutes later, we’re sitting right at the back of the theater with all the snacks I could carry. As predicted, the place is packed, and Darcy is still freaking out about being seen.
“I think my beanie would make a better disguise,” she suggests, pulling it off her head and offering it out to me.
Setting the Bugles, popcorn, and candy on the floor, I smooth a palm over her braid, pieces of static hair sticking up at all angles. “You look like I did when you first stopped by my apartment that day. Hair everywhere.”
I take her beanie, jacket, and scarf and drop them onto the empty seat beside us. We’re on a row of five in the very top corner, and luckily, no one booked the seats right next to us. I can’t say I’m surprised since we can barely see the screen from way back here.
“I’m sorry the seats are shit, Doll. It was all they had left.”
She reaches down and picks up the packet of Bugles, pulling it open and offering it to me. “Meh.” She dismisses the issue entirely. “I pretty much know this movie scene by scene and line by line. It’s just nice that someone wants to actually watch it with me.”
I choose not to ask if Liam ever did because I already know the answer.
“When I was ten, I had an obsession with trains. If I wasn’t railfanning, then I was playing hockey.” I think back to the catalog of photos I put together over a two-year period. All of which my mom keeps in her place now. Darcy is the first person I’ve talked to about my former passion, something that I’d long forgotten about until now. Nostalgia shoots through me as hazy childhood memories reemerge.
“Railfanning, as in trainspotting?” Darcy asks, already on her third Bugle.
“Yeah. Some, my dad took me to spot; others, I researched and followed online. Then I turned into a preteen and found girls.” I smirk at her, and she deadpans.
I lean forward and snatch the piece she’s holding between her fingers with my mouth, and she balks at me in surprise.
“I could teach you some lessons in Darcy Thompson, if you’d like?”
I continue to crunch on it, a smirk still playing on my lips as the lights go down and the movie starts to play.
“Go on,” I whisper. “It’s probably nothing I don’t already know about you anyway.”
She side-eyes me as an image of Bletchley Park—the place where most of the codebreaking took place in England—comes into view.
“Never steal my favorite foods, especially not while I’m pregnant.”
I reach into the bag and take another out before she can scrunch it shut.
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