I leaned forward and dragged the table closer to the couch, bringing the drinks within arm’s reach.

The opening frame of Die Hard filled the screen. It wasn’t until I noticed her mouthing the lines right along with me that I said them out loud. This began our quote battle, which devolved into laughter and even more touching. Not a single complaint from me.

Halfway through, we shifted, moving so one of my legs was up on the couch and one on the floor with Bay settled between them.

Her back was no longer against my side, but fully flush against my chest, and her ass in that skirt that nearly touched her knees was nestled right against my denim-covered crotch. It was a testament to how good the movie was and how much I didn’t want to break the easy comfort between us that I kept my erection under control. But I managed to keep the leash tight on my thoughts and my body—chokingly tight, to keep the easy air between us.

Her nervousness evaporated and comfort settled in by the time McClane made it to Nakatomi Plaza.

“This is my favorite part.” She grabbed my face with one hand and held my chin in place like I wasn’t already watching the movie right alongside her. Well, I’d also been watching her.

A hail of bullets hit the police car as the cop threw it in reverse before flying over the edge of the concrete basin, climbing out of the car with Twinkie wrappers flying everywhere.

She put on her best McClane voice, welcoming him to the party.

I laughed and grabbed another handful of popcorn.

Bay sighed and dropped her arm to my leg. I was her own personal recliner, and I wasn’t complaining one bit.

Her intense need for me to watch certain scenes had me smiling so wide my cheeks ached.

She shot forward. “How did he know he wasn’t Bill Clay? I’ve never understood this part. It doesn’t make any sense. On the office directory, it said ‘W.M. Clay’. How the hell did he figure it out?”

“He’s just that good.”

She grumbled more about it making no sense.

The waves of her hair tickled against my neck and chin. Her head fit perfectly in the hollow of my shoulder. Contentment like I’d never experienced flooded me. It was unexpected, like my head was being held under water, and I’d discovered that I had gills.

She finally wore me down enough to try her Goober-popcorn abomination. It wasn’t half bad, but most of the goodness came from her fingers brushing against my lips as she fed me the salty-sweet combo.

My fingers itched to caress her. I wanted to touch her, taste her, sink between her legs and show her how I’d do anything to make her happy. I wished I’d grabbed my sketchbook on the way out to step outside myself to preserve tonight between those ratty covers.

The credits rolled and Bay didn’t move from her spot against me. Her weight settled even firmer against me.