“You’re having wine?” Cage asks, noticing the open bottle and my glass on the table. “My mom loves that shit—she’d love you. Anyway, I brought The Silence of the Lambs. Have you seen it?”
“Uh, no.”
He shoots me a bewildered look over his shoulder, which quickly morphs into a devilish grin.
“I think you’ll like it. It’s a fucking cult classic. I figured you’d find some enjoyment out of it, considering it’s about eating people.”
I frown. “You think just because I feed my pigs humans, I’m into cannibalism?”
He shrugs, popping the disc into my DVD player to get the film ready. “I’m into whatever you’re into. I get the feeling these types of movies are right up your alley. Come sit. I’ll make popcorn.”
I don’t sit.
In fact, I stare at him as he walks over to my kitchen and starts rifling through the cabinets like he owns the place, finding a large bowl and my popcorn.
“What if I didn’t have popcorn?” I question, crossing my arms.
Again, he peers at me from over his shoulder. His beauty is wicked, and I hate the way it makes my heart flutter.
“Everyone has popcorn, Molly.” He says that like it’s obvious.
And I suppose it is, considering it’s been a staple in my household for the last several years.
He moves through the kitchen with confidence. Like he’s been here all along and is as familiar with my home as he is with my body.
As much as my brain protests, my heart is softening.
I only knew him for a night, but I’ve missed him. More than I ever realized.
Sighing, I relent and trudge over to the couch. Instantly, I grab the wineglass, chugging the rest of it and hoping it calms the butterflies flapping around in my stomach.
“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll get more wine, too,” he drawls, amusement in his tone.
I roll my eyes, but secretly, I like that he’s here. Even though I wasn’t prepared for an impromptu movie night, the idea of it actually sounds really fucking nice.
I don’t think I’ve ever had one before. At least not one where I wasn’t alone.
In no time, the delicious aroma of buttery popcorn fills the house, and he’s sitting next to me on the couch with the snack, an uncracked bottle of wine, and an extra glass for himself.
I pop a piece of popcorn in my mouth and cast a thin-eyed look his way. “You could’ve called, ya know.”
“I don’t have your number, though.”
I raise a brow. “Are you saying you’re not a resourceful man?”
He shoots me a cocky grin. “I didn’t want to give you the chance to say no. ”
He grabs the remote and presses play before I can formulate a proper response. We both know he’s right, and in a weird way, I’m glad he took the option out of my hands.
I would’ve agonized over the proposal for far too long, talked myself out of doing it, and then regretted it later.
As the disturbing movie plays, we power through the popcorn like we’re starving and drink the entire bottle of wine. And like a true gentleman, he lets me eat all the half-popped kernels.
Then, he grabs my legs and, resting them over his lap, massages my feet, all the while quoting lines from the film. The act is so thoughtless, so genuine, that tears rush to my eyes.
Never have I had anyone bring me flowers, set up a movie, and rub my feet. It’s not something I even imagined for myself.
“Why did you come?” I ask softly after about an hour into the movie. My head is swimming a little, but I gaze at him with perfect clarity.
He glances at me. “I wanted to spend time with you. I missed you.”
It’s a simple answer, yet my heart is climbing into my throat.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He leans down and places a soft kiss on the top of my foot, then turns his focus back to the movie.
I haven’t been to Cage’s store, Black Portal, since that day nine years ago, desperate for an escape and hoping to God I’d find one in Cage .
He provided it for me, but it wasn’t the escape I thought I needed.
Now that I’m here again, watching him sell a TV to a typical customer, I realize I’m finding one in him now.
It’s been a few days since our movie night, and I don’t think I’ve ever texted anyone so much in my life.
He asked for my number after our movie night, promising he’d call before showing up. Reluctantly, I gave it to him, but I hadn’t expected him to text me so often. At first, I was hesitant to respond, but his charm was as addicting through the phone as it was in person, and ultimately, I found myself replying to him until it became thoughtless.