My Blood Approves (My Blood Approves 1) - Page 9/69

“Do you even own a car?”

“Yeah, a jeep. I just haven’t felt like driving it lately.” Then he flashed a sly smile and looked over at me. “Besides, this is so much faster.”

“That doesn’t seem fair at all,” I said tiredly after riding in silence for a minute. My mind had been to trying to figure out all the things he wouldn’t tell me. “You won’t tell me anything about yourself.”

“Hey, I’ll tell you almost anything about me.” He kept his tone light, but he looked a little wounded. For the first time, I realized that he not telling me bothered him just as much as it did me.

“My favorite color is chartreuse. I love the Ramones and the Cure. My bedroom walls are painted dark blue. I had my first kiss when I was fourteen while listening to ‘Rock Lobster’ cause she really, really liked B-52’s. I should’ve taken that as warning sign that it would never work, but I was awfully young and stupid.”

“Chartreuse?” I questioned, skipping over the remainder of his confession. “I don’t even know what that is.”

“It’s sorta like a bright olive,” Jack explained. “It’s the color most visible to the human eye because of where it sits in the light spectrum.”

“You’re incredibly random.” We turned into the parking lot of the multiplex, and I realized he had managed to avoid really telling me anything. When he pulled into park, I looked at him seriously. “So why can’t you tell me things?”

“Why do you think?” Jack asked, not unkindly.

“Witness protection.” It was an idea I had actually considered but quickly crossed off because it didn’t really explain anything. And just as I suspected, Jack laughed.

“Okay, that’s not it.” Still smiling and shaking his head, he hopped out of the car, and I quickly followed him.

“Hey, does that mean you’ll actually tell me if I guess right?” The movie had probably already started, so Jack was walking rather fast towards the theater, and I chased after him as swiftly as my short legs would carry me.

“I don’t see why not,” Jack said, and that perplexed me even further.

“If I can guess it then why can’t you just come right out and tell me?”

“It’s just the way it is.” He opened the big glass doors of the theater for me, and I walked inside, furrowing my brow.

When he went up to the cashier to buy tickets, I started rummaging in my pockets for my own money, but he just waved me off and paid for my ticket. If I hadn’t been so preoccupied by this new development, I probably would’ve protested further.

“So, are you Rumpelstiltskin?” I asked him, leaning up against the counter as he got our tickets.

He laughed loudly, and the cashier blushed at the sound. He was completely oblivious to it, and I hoped that I would hurry up and feel the same way. I hadn’t really staked a claim on him, but it was still irritating to notice girls drooling all over him, especially when I was visibly with him.

“That’s awesome!” He handed me my ticket, and while I did feel overly happy about his minor compliment, I only let the frustration show on my face. He walked to the theater, slowing enough so I could keep up with him. “Rumpelstiltskin. That’s really awesome. I’m gonna tell Ezra that.”

“Why? Are you guys like a family of goblins or something?”

Jack laughed, shaking his head, and then pushed open the door to the movie before I could question him further.

The movie had already started playing but just the very beginning. Many people were dressed up in costumes from the movie and throwing popcorn at the screen, so for once nobody noticed us sneaking into the back row.

Rocky Horror Picture Show was a pretty good movie and I did rather enjoy it, but either Jack had ADD or he had being evasive down to an art form.

Deciding to make the best of the situation, I followed suit and watched the movie. Jack was a borderline fanatic. He hadn’t dressed up in a black corset or anything like that, but he shouted right along with all the lines.

When “Time Warp” came on, I thought he might get up and dance, and he probably would’ve if there'd been enough room in the aisle.

Towards the end of the movie, I had settled back in my seat, and even his enthusiasm had faded a bit. My arm casually brushed against his, and I felt struck by his odd skin temperature again. His skin was soft and warm, but it felt more like touching fabric than it did like touching a person.

It was such an odd sensation that I felt like I had to get more of it. I pushed my arm over on the shared arm rest, very deliberately pressing my bare skin against his. The back of his hand felt impossibly soft.

He hadn’t pulled his arm away, but I felt his gaze so I looked up at him, finding a very perplexed expression on his face.

“Are you trying to hold my hand?” Jack asked, as if the idea were completely alien.

I was not trying to hold his hand, but I didn’t appreciate the way it seemed so offensive to him. What would be wrong with that?

“What if I am?” I stuck out my chin, ready to hold my ground and find out what would be so bad about hitting on me.

Without hesitation, Jack called my bluff and took my hand in his. It definitely felt like I was holding hands with doll or something other than another person, but then it started to warm up, his skin heating up unnaturally, and I pulled my hand from his.

“Okay. That’s just weird,” I whispered.

In response, he just shrugged, apparently deciding against explaining his abrupt temperature change.

We watched the rest of the movie in silence (or at least I did – he continued shouting lines and singing). By the time it ended, I had started yawning, and I knew that I’d have to call it a night pretty soon.

Not that I wanted to. Bizarre handholding and classified information aside, I really enjoyed spending time with Jack and I didn’t want it to stop. Not ever.

“I hope you had fun tonight,” Jack said when he pulled up in front of my place.

“I did,” I nodded. Only he could make frustration so much fun. “So… we’ll hang out again?”

“Of course,” he smiled, holding his hand towards me. “Let me see your phone.”

“Why?” I asked, but I was already pulling it out of my pocket and handing it to him.

“One second.” Taking my phone, he started scrolling through it and doing things that I couldn’t see from my angle. A minute later, he handed my phone back to me, looking rather mischievous.