AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It’s dumb. If I’d been an ax murderer, intent on slaughtering you, your question would have alerted me that you were aware of my presence.”
“Luckily for me, your only intentions right then were getting naked and showering.”
She fought back a furious blush, and lost. Fortunately, it was too dark in the room for him to see her crimson face.
“I was trying to get warm.”
A discordant screech, echoing from the surround-sound speakers made them both jump, and they refocused on the screen where the character was clutching her chest in shock after having unearthed a body in the dumbwaiter.
“If you live alone and move into an ancient house with a dumbwaiter, the house is probably too big for you,” Iris observed caustically.
“Aah, you’re one of those,” Trystan said, taking a slurp of his slushy.
“One of what?” Iris prompted, when he didn’t elaborate.
“A plot apart picker. Someone who tears apart the minutest details in a movie as they’re watching it.”
“I’m not,” she protested indignantly. “I don’t pick plots apart. Not usually. But scary movies bring out the worst in me. I think it’s my way of coping with the tension and fear. If I can point out an implausibility, I’m better able to remember that none of it is real. Although it doesn’t really work, since I always wind up checking cupboards and under the bed for monsters and boogeymen after watching a scary movie anyway.”
“Seriously?” Now it was his turn to sound gleeful.
“Ssh, we’re missing the film,” she said, trying to divert his attention. His knowing chuckle told her he knew exactly what she was doing, but he let it go. Filching some of her popcorn, he settled back down in his seat to watch.
The rest of the movie was only occasionally interrupted by Iris’s moans of disapproval and her squeaks of fear whenever something truly frightening happened.
Trystan immediately put on a lighthearted romantic comedy after the horror movie. A palate cleanser, he called it. Iris, who wasn’t a big fan of romcoms—and exhausted after several nights of poor sleep—dozed through most of it. She startled awake when the end credits were rolling, and sat up in confusion.
“What happened?”
“Movie’s over,” Trystan said, after a jaw-popping yawn. “Don’t blame you for snoring your way through it, it was godawful.”
“Are you allowed to be that critical? I mean isn’t there some kind of professional code that dictates that you say only nice or noncommittal things about other people’s movies?”
He snort-laughed at that.
“I enjoy watching movies and I have opinions, same as everyone else. But I would never publicly slam a movie. I know how much work goes into making them. But this isn’t a public space and, as such, I’m allowed to voice a private observation without fear that it’ll be spread all over the gossip rags tomorrow.”
Another test? Maybe. Maybe not. It was too exhausting analyzing every little thing he said for potential land mines and snares.
He stretched luxuriously and yawned, another huge yawn that triggered one of her own.
“I’m starving. Want to help me with lunch?” he asked, and Iris—keen to delay the return to her torture chamber—nodded eagerly.
“Yes, please.”
“You any good in a kitchen?” he asked, as he got up and then held out a hand to help her up.
She stared at that big, capable hand for an uncertain moment, before taking it. His fingers closed around hers—strong and familiar—and he waited for her to unfold her legs before giving her a helpful tug up. She yelped and stumbled into his arms when her right ankle buckled.
His arms wrapped around her waist as he caught her.
“You okay?”
“My foot’s asleep,” she moaned, gingerly testing her weight on it before yelping again. “Ugh, pins and needles.”
“That’s the worst,” he murmured into her ear. “Take your time, I’ve got you.”
They stood like that for a few moments, while she gradually placed more weight on her foot as the tingling subsided. He held her comfortably, his arms loose around her waist, his big hands splayed in the small of her back, the tips just resting above the curve of her butt.
