Page 48 of Play the Part (Marsford Bay #2)

CONNIE

“ Y ou can’t count this as our first official date, you know,” Huxley says matter-of-factly as he unfastens his seatbelt.

After having drinks on Thursday, Jamie insisted we both come for Sunday dinner. This would make tonight our first official outing as two people publicly dating.

I should feel nervous, but instead it just feels normal, especially when our outing is Sunday dinner at the McKennas. It’s safe. It’s family.

I smirk and open the car door.

“Oh?” I say innocently. “Already have something planned then?”

Huxley winks as he rounds the car, meeting me on the other side. “I’m working on it.”

It’s only been three days since we made up, and I know it’s too early to declare that this time things feel different. But I can’t help but think it. A lot.

Especially when I watch Huxley stroll up to me and slide his palm into mine. Leaning down, he presses a kiss to the back of my hand before smoothing a thumb over the skin, his gaze lifting to connect with mine under his lashes.

“Being a Libra and all, I should have known you were a secret loverboy,” I say smoothly, although my heart keeps skipping a beat anytime he smiles at me like he is now.

He chuckles and pulls me into his body with an arm around my waist.

“You just never gave me the chance until now,” he says softly before kissing me.

Giggling, I let my body fall onto his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck and returning the kiss before pulling away and heading inside.

As I walk in, I’m hit with the familiar scent of home cooking coming from the kitchen, and of another scent that is distinctly the McKenna household.

It’s warm and inviting, and my heart squeezes with affection.

The first person to greet us is Sophia, who’s sitting on the couch, one foot pulled up and propped on the cushion.

With her eyes still on her phone, she says, “I saw that.”

“What?” I ask with a laugh as Huxley takes my coat.

“Whatever that was outside,” she says, her attention still cast down. “Practically made me nauseous.”

Her eyes lift after her last comment, a smirk on her lips. Huxley passes behind Sophia on his way to the kitchen, most likely looking for his older brother, and pats her head condescendingly.

“She’s the cold-hearted one of the family,” he says.

Sophia shrinks down as she tries to avoid her brother’s hand. “Don’t touch me!”

Her threat is playfully ignored as Huxley turns the corner and disappears. I laugh under my breath at the obvious sibling banter and sit on the couch next to Sophia.

“Where’s Jamie?” I ask.

“Taking a shower, I think,” she says, finally putting her phone down.

As her eyes slide to meet mine, her ominous smile widens. She stares for a few seconds too long before finally asking, “So?” She elongates the word as if the one-word question contains all the information I need to answer her.

I respond with a deadpan stare, narrowing my eyes, but don’t say anything.

She puffs out a laugh. “You two finally saw the light. Took you long enough.” Her smile turns saccharine. “Thank god , ‘cause I was sick and tired of playing couples therapy.”

I playfully shove her shoulder with my own. “Huxley’s right, you are the cold-hearted one.”

She giggles. “Well, someone needs to be rational in this family.”

Looking over my shoulder, I make sure we’re alone. “So what about you? Are you still seeing that bartender?”

Her body language turns a little squirrely, but she answers me anyway. “Nah, he started getting too clingy, so I broke things off. He’s kind of ignoring me now.”

I snort. “Too clingy?” Knowing her, she probably got turned off by something small and inconsequential. “Let me guess, he was just acting interested?”

“He was texting me too often.” She smirks, then adds playfully, “Yuck.”

I shake my head. “Classic Sophia,” I chide.

Charlie appears out of nowhere in front of us and cuts in without even saying hi.

“Connie, have you watched the Fast & Furious movies? If yes, what are your rankings from worst to best?”

Sophia and I fall into a fit of giggles while Charlie stands in front of us, dead serious. Eventually, I do answer his question—of course, I’ve watched the franchise. I spend the rest of Sunday night surrounded by all my favorite people, Huxley now at the top of the list.

A few days later, I meet Huxley outside my condo for our very first official date. He insisted on picking me up, and I find him standing beside Sophia’s car, the late afternoon sun shining behind him, with a large bouquet of colorful gerbera daisies.

I giggle in shock at the sight of him. He looks so adorable, standing there, a hopeful smile on his face. His faithful bomber jacket is unzipped at the collar, distressed combat boots, and freshly dyed blue hair, while holding those dainty flowers. The urge is too strong—I need to document this.

“Don’t move,” I order while still a few feet away.

Pulling my phone out, I snap a few pictures, his smile turning sheepish the more he stands there—which just makes him look all the more charming. Finally, I skip over to meet him, my smile so big it’s hurting my cheeks.

“For you,” he says demurely, handing me the flowers with a soft kiss on the corner of my lips.

I play along, acting surprised as if I didn’t know the bouquet was meant for me.

“That’s so sweet of you.” If I’m not careful, he’ll notice the cartoon hearts floating out of my eyes. “Thank you.”

Opening the car door, he ushers me in with a hand to the small of my back. The giddiness I’m feeling from just the first few minutes of our date is unprecedented, even after more than a decade of dating. First dates have never meant this much to me.

But if I’m being honest. It’s because no one has meant this much to me. Huxley is all new territory, and I’m loving every minute of it. The feeling is reminiscent of a warm, effervescent wave gently rolling through my body.

He’s kept the activity of our date a secret. When in the car, I— again —ask him where we’re heading, but he simply sends me a mischievous wink before pulling out onto the street.

Fifteen minutes and a few neighbourhoods later, we park on a busy street, but I still don’t know what I’m looking for. I vaguely know where we are, but nothing comes to mind until we walk up to the doors of an indie movie theatre.

It takes me a few seconds to put the context clues together, and when it finally clicks, my stomach explodes into a dozen butterflies.

Huxley has somehow managed to find what I’m assuming is the only movie theatre in Marsford Bay celebrating nineties romcoms with a special double-showing of Can’t Hardly Wait , followed by my favorite— 10 Things I Hate About You .

I turn on my heels and smile widely.

“You’re kidding.”

Even with my positive reaction, Huxley rubs his nape, looking nervous, then shrugs, his hand still up in the air.

“I knew you had a thing for the nineties and then heard about this place so …” He smiles sheepishly, not fully finishing his sentence. “You like it?”

“Do I like it?” I parrot back, grabbing his forearm with both hands in pure excitement. “I love it.”

Huxley’s nervous expression fades into a shy smirk as if secretly celebrating his win. And my heart flutters when I think about the careful thought he put into seeing me happy.

“This is perfect, Hux. Literally perfect.”

I kiss him, doing my best to convey all my affection through our parted lips and the touch of our tongues. Deepening the kiss with a tug to his coat collar, his hands smooth over my ass, pulling me into him. The moment slips into a place where time doesn’t exist, and nothing else matters but us.

Eventually, Huxley breaks the kiss and chuckles softly against my lips. “If we don’t hurry, we’ll miss the first showing.”

I pull away, grinning like a fool, and take his hand, leading us inside.