Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 29792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
I knock on Jane’s apartment door. When she opens it, the sight of her takes my breath away, even though she’s dressed in jeans and a tank top. The denim hugs those wide hips, and her white top shows off her big breasts and tiny waist. I swallow hard and say, “Hi, sweetheart. You look amazing. This is for you.” I hand her a tiny aloe plant in a white pot.
She smiles and reads the black words on the pot, “Aloe, Gorgeous.” Jane snort-laughs and then blushes. “Oh my god, you have to stop making me do that with your corny puns.”
I shake my head, “Absolutely not. I love making you laugh.”
She grins and says, “Come inside. How do you know I keep succulents by the way?”
I grin.
“Because I’m awesome.”
She rolls her big brown eyes and sets the aloe with the rest of her succulent garden on her windowsill.
“Would you like a tour before we go? I don’t think you’ve ever been to my place.”
There’s only one door off the living room, so I assume that’s her bedroom. If we do the tour thing and end up in her room, we’ll definitely be missing the movie. I have to do this right.
“Sweetheart, I have been to your place. I helped you move this coffee table in remember?”
She stares at me, and then realization dawns.
“Oh, wow, yeah, you and that truck. I didn’t remember because it was so long ago, but yeah. Five, six years ago, right?”
“Sounds right. Besides, we need to get going for the film.”
She grabs her keys and purse, then smiles and takes my hand.
“Let’s go then.”
Once at the theatre, my paranoia about other people seeing us together dies because honestly, I don’t care that much. Being with Jane feels right, and it feels nice to have her by my side. She seems to unclench, too. As we wait in line, I ask lightly, “Do you think they’ll bring Bill back for the sequel? Or will it be another killer?”
Her face brightens and she asks, “You’ve seen the series?”
I nod wryly.
“It’s better than most of the horror that’s come out lately.”
“Oh my god, exactly! Like most horror series get exponentially worse as the series goes on, but Supernatural Activity gets better each time!”
“Yeah, the kills are getting more creative, and the stalking scenes are more complex. It’s breathing fresh air into the genre.”
Jane begins to wax rhapsodic about horror movies in general, but all I can think of is the passion in her eyes as she talks. She’s speaking dynamically and gesturing with her hands. This girl is a true horror junkie, and it shows. Can I live with that? Hell, as long as she keeps wearing these low-cut tank tops, I can live with anything.
I buy the tickets, popcorn, candy, and sodas, and we go into the dark theatre. The auditorium is half full, so we take a seat in the back, away from other people. It’s one of those theaters with recliner-style seats, so we get comfortable as she snuggles up to my side. I put my arm around her, and she giggles a bit. I take a deep breath of her shampoo and memorize the scent.
The film is a schlock-fest of predictable jump scares and frankly, very light on plot, but she seems to enjoy it. Afterwards, I say, “Let’s go for a walk.”
“Sounds good,” she smiles. I gently take her hand and hold it for a few steps, before she asks, “Are you dizzy or something?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re holding my hand. Are you okay?”
I smile and explain, “I’m holding your hand because I want to touch you while we walk.”
“Like in an old movie?”
“Do people not do that anymore?” I ask.
She giggles, “I have never had a guy hold my hand. It’s like I have cooties or something.”
My brow arches.
“Then I get to be your first?”
She blushes, “Yes. You’re the only person who’s ever meant it.”
I hold her hand and we casually stroll to an old-fashioned burgers and shakes place down the street. I open the door and the fluorescent glare is horrific, but it’s a lively place with chrome plated paneling and linoleum tables. We find a booth away from the windows which is relatively quiet. Her eyes dance over the menu and she says, “I don’t think I can finish a whole shake by myself in addition to a burger. Do you want to split one?”
“Sure, what flavor?”
“Chocolate.”
“Sounds good,” I smile. One of the few things I know about Jane is that she always has a chocolate cake for her birthday. According to their Yelp reviews, this place is famous for their chocolate shakes, and her chocolate lust is exactly why we are here in the first place. We place our orders, and then talk about the film. She loved every part of it, and the horror fanatic in her shows itself again.