He kept his mouth near her ear, the heat filling her with another pleasant rush she didn’t want to acknowledge. “Intercepted her in the hallway.”
Warmth spread through her at the gesture that summoned memories of the afternoon in the mountains. She already had trouble focusing on the on-screen love interest, who would almost definitely be gone by the next film in the franchise. “We’re not a couple. We don’t have to sit together.” She loved that he did these things for her. The tiny acts without thought. But she didn’t want him to feel obligated. Didn’t like the voice asking if it was because they were screwing now, even though she knew it was something he’d always done.
“I know.” The two words fell softly against her cheek. “But we would have before.”
She tried to hide her smirk at the sound logic, and failed. “Touché.”
He bumped his shoulder against hers. “Can I have some of your candy?”
She sank into her seat, arm next to his on the rest. “I guess. Just this once.”
As the movie tore on, her mood continued to lighten. The four of them cheered with the rest of the crowd and booed and dragged their feet, waiting for that one tiny glimpse of the next film, as the credits rolled.
They stumbled into the night, and Riley paused outside, blinking while her eyes adjusted to the bright streetlights lining the parking lot.
“So”—Tori’s exclamation was loud in the still night—“Mr. Rich-but-Arrogant in the costume. Absolutely hot.”
“I could wear a costume.” Archer’s feigned hurt was exaggerated.
“You would be just as irritating as he was,” Riley pointed out. “Ms. Sexy-Spy-Lady? I would love to be able to fight like that.” She kicked into the air and promptly stumbled over a crack.
Tori caught her and pushed her upright again. “Get Zane to teach you. He’s got the mad moves, right?”
An unexpected flush coursed through Riley, along with images of some of the moves Zane had shown her so far. She ducked her head, hoping her thoughts didn’t show on her face. “I’m not nearly that coordinated.”
“But”—Zane interjected—“you’d look a million times better in the black leather than she did.”
“He’s right.” Tori turned to walk backward, studying Riley. “I could absolutely make you something like that. I bet Archer would pay you just to stand around the store in it. Can you imagine the draw?”
“I can imagine cleaning the drool off the glass counters.” Archer didn’t sound bothered. “I’d still let you do it.”
The attention drew Riley’s embarrassed flush out further. She was having too much fun to spoil the moment, but she wanted a subject that wasn’t her. “I can’t believe it’s after three. I am so tired and so wired. I won’t get anything done at work tomorrow. Or is that today?”
“So call in sick,” Zane said. “I’ll forge you a doctor’s note.”
Archer held up his hands. “I don’t want to hear anything about the two of you playing doctor.”
Riley feigned an exhausted stumble, a bit for fun, and a bit to indicate the tiredness was sinking in. Warmth flooded her veins when Zane caught her. She pushed upright again. “Seriously. I need coffee. We should go to Denny’s. If I have to work in the morning anyway, why sleep?”
“I can do Denny’s.” Archer pulled his keys from his pocket. “I’m with Zane, though. Call in sick. Stop by the shop and pick up the stack of manga I’ve been holding for you. Unless you’ve got something better to read.”
Riley was about to agree, when Zane cut in. “I’m guessing reading someone else’s work isn’t the same, when you’ve got your own to focus on.”
The warm fuzzies flitting through Riley beat a rapid escape but didn’t take her embarrassment with them.Please don’t let him do this. Her gut sank. “Denny’s?”
“Wait. Really?” Archer studied her, curiosity and doubt in his hazel eyes. “Are you doing more than just dabbling now?”
“She’s going pro.” Zane smirked.
She was going to kill him. Or something. Why was he doing this to her? The private support was one thing, but getting friends and family to gang up on her, bombarding her with so many expectations, when she didn’t even know if she had what it took to make it, was too much.
“For real?” Archer raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
She furrowed her brow. How was she supposed to respond to that? “I haven’t decided yet. It gets difficult to pick a direction, when someone”—she glared at Zane—“keeps telling everyone before I’ve made up my mind.”
Zane frowned and turned away.
“You know he’s biased.” Archer didn’t back down. “It’s really hard to make it in that market. You can’t begood. You have to be thebest.”