Page 12

NYLAH

So, he’s just standing there not saying anything.

Weirdo.

I glance to my right, trying not to laugh.

Seriously. Why is he not saying anything?

Clearing my throat, I shuffle a touch closer to him.

It’s cold out here, and my body is instinctively drawn to his heat.

He flinches when I get too close, his leather jacket wrinkling as he crosses his arms, then uncrosses them and goes back to his cool, hands-in-pockets stance, which should seriously not be that sexy. But somehow he makes it so.

He’s got this James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause vibe.

Gramma would love him. That’s one of her favorite old flicks.

I call it ancient because hassling her about her age is one of my favorite pastimes.

Apparently, I started doing it when I was only three or something, and she laughed so hard.

So, I kept going, and it’s evolved into something wonderful. Another thing to bond us.

I miss her.

If she were here, she’d probably be nudging Carson’s arm and snapping, “You gonna say anything, fool? Or you just gonna stand there lookin’ pretty?”

Her voice in my head has me stifling a giggle.

Carson’s eyes dart toward me, and he gives me a frown before looking down the road like he’s desperate for my Uber to get here.

Oh yeah? Well, I’m kinda not.

So start talking and stop wasting this time!

Clearing my throat again, I give him a closed-mouth smile, and he finally huffs and mutters, “You okay?”

“Ye-ah.” I’m confused by his question at first, then realize he’s probably assuming I’m traumatized by what happened in the bar. This makes me laugh, and I flick my hand through the air. “Oh, that. Yeah. I’m totally fine. I was seconds away from snatching that pool cue and shoving it up his nose.”

His lips twitch, and I turn to face him properly.

“I appreciate your help, though. The guy was like a redwood, and I wasn’t strong enough to budge him. Super frustrating, but not scary.”

“He grabbed your ass,” Carson growls.

“Yeah, that wasn’t cool.” I nod, tucking my hair behind my ear, then bulging my eyes at him. “You didn’t punch him or anything, did you?”

“No.” He frowns, then grumbles, “Wily wouldn’t let me.”

I laugh. “He wouldn’t let you?”

“Well, he would have gotten shitty if I did.”

“I can’t imagine that.” I tip my head. “Wily Wilson being angry just doesn’t compute.”

“Oh, come on. You’ve seen him play.”

“True.” I nod. “The guy’s a warrior. I guess I just imagine him blocking and tackling with a laugh and a grin. Like some happy brute of a pirate, defeating the enemies with whoops and cheers, you know?”

He looks at me like I’m just a little bit weird, then gives me a nod before checking the road again.

“Do you like pirate movies?”

He shrugs.

“You totally do,” I murmur.

He whips back around to frown down at me. “I never said that.”

A smile tugs at my lips at the zing of pleasure that whips through me. Oooo, this boy is fun to tease.

“What was the last movie you watched?”

His left shoulder hitches. “Can’t remember.”

“Liar.” I shake my head. “My last movie was Total Recall because I know you’re wondering.”

Scratching his stubble, he tries and fails to look disinterested. “Which version?”

“1990, of course. Is there another one?”

He smirks, and I swear I’m seconds away from getting a real smile out of him. “If you’re into Arnie, you’re better off with Predator .”

“I don’t know, I’d probably have to give top place to Terminator , then Predator . And if you tell anyone this, I will slay you… but I’ve kind of got a soft spot for True Lies . But that’s just because Jamie Lee Curtis is a freaking legend. I love her.”

“Huh.” He nods. “I thought you were going to say Kindergarten Cop , and then I would have had to laugh in your face.”

I gasp. “You know how to laugh?”

His side-eye is nothing but scathing, but I can see those lips of his fighting a grin. After a beat, he gruffly mutters, “I’ll let you have True Lies . It’s not half bad.”

My smile is broad as I nudge him with my elbow. “You surprise me.”

“Why?”

“Because I thought your grumpy ass would be into dark, emo movies, but you’re vibing action flicks from the ’80s and ’90s, man. How did you even get into them?”

He shrugs and shakes his head.

It’s obvious he’s not telling me something, and I really want to know if he’s got some super-cool grandma the way I do.

Someone to sit and watch old movies with.

She always says I got my love of all things ’80s and ’90s from her because those were her favorite decades, and I obviously inherited her best genes.

Like it even works that way.

But still, I’ll take it. I love how I walk the same frequency as Gramma.

Without her, my recovery would have been so much longer and slower.

Then again, she started on my movie education from the moment I was old enough to watch them.

Each year, I’ve graduated to her next level, and she’s shown me something new from her ever-growing list of “must-sees.”

I wonder who Carson knows like that.

I wonder if I can convince him to watch some movies with me.

My phone beeps, and I check the screen. My Uber has been delayed and will be here in five.

Sweet. Not gonna complain about that. Even though I’m starting to freeze, it’ll give me a chance to redeem this night and make a bold move. Because that’s what this school year has to be about. Bold moves and the chance to actually live again.

“So, you know…” I lick the edge of my mouth. “The Lido is doing a sci-fi and fantasy movie month. They’ve got old films playing throughout November… if you want to go to one.”

“I have an away game this weekend.”

“I know.” I nod. “But there’s a home game the week after that, right? And I know you’re free on Sundays.”

He clears his throat, looking to the ground with a wince. “Yeah, but I shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t what?”

“Go to the movies with you.”

I frown, crossing my arms and wishing he would face me properly. “Why?”

“Because your dad will bench me for life, and then he’ll probably kill me.”

I roll my eyes, sticking out my tongue. “It’s just the movies, Carson.”

He doesn’t respond. I even raise my eyes, silently demanding an answer, but that stubborn ass stays silent and unbreakable.

After a huff, I flick my arm in the air and practically snap at him, “I’m going to go to the afternoon show every Sunday in November.

” His gaze slowly tracks to my face, so I put on a smile.

“If you happen to be there on one of those Sundays, then maybe I’ll let you sit with me.

” I wink, and his forehead flickers like I’ve just done something painful.

I jolt my head back and am about to ask him what his problem is when my Uber pulls up.

“Whatever,” I murmur. “Maybe I’ll see you, maybe I won’t.”

I spin to jump in the car, but Carson’s arm darts out, stopping me before I can even open the door. His fingers curl into the crook my elbow.

“You haven’t even checked the license plate or make and model. Is this the Uber you ordered?” He looks pissed at me for not being more careful, and my cheeks flare with heat as I quickly look at my phone, then verify the information.

The driver gives me a friendly smile and a thumbs-up, not seeming to mind that I’m checking him against his profile. But then his expression falters, his forehead crinkling with obvious worry, and I glance over my shoulder and spot Carson scowling at him.

“Get her home safely,” he orders.

“Oh stop.” I laugh at my bodyguard, gently shoving his shoulder. “Don’t scare the poor guy.”

Carson moves back, looking me over, his expression momentarily softening, like he’s giving me a peek behind his blackout blinds.

Thought so.

All bark and no bite. Just like my dad.

“I’ll see you around, Carson.”

“You shouldn’t.”

He’s frowning again, and all I can do is smile at him and whisper, “But I will.”