** Eli **
Something seemed off about Harper. Even in the dim light of the theater room, Eli could see the flush on her face. The rosy hue over her cheeks had turned into a bright red, and she looked like a perfectly ripened peach.
Was she drunk? Eli glanced at the empty martini glass in her hand. It was only a light drink. Could her tolerance really be that low?
"What about a soda if you don't feel like another round?" he offered again and straightened back into his side of the seat, reaching for the tablet as he tried to remember what kind of drinks she liked as a kid. "Strawberry lemonade?"
"No, I'm fine, really," Harper replied all too quickly. "I'm just— Actually, yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I could always use a strawberry lemonade in the summer."
… She was definitely behaving oddly. Eli studied her with another skeptical look, affirming his suspicion that she was super lightweight. He wondered idly how that was possible for someone with the last name McKenzie, or how four years of college life had not trained her at all.
Their order came quickly. As soon as the curtains rustled and the glass clinked lightly on the table behind them, Harper got up, not even giving him a chance to bring it over for her. She grabbed the drink, downed a huge gulp, then settled herself at the mini bar.
"I think … I think I'll take some cookies too," she mumbled, her eyes locked on the dessert tray in front of her.
Eli felt a bit lost. Even more so when Harper just sat there, not actually moving to take a cookie as she claimed. It wasn't until then that he noticed she looked unusually tense. She was stretching her back taut in a rigid line, and she rubbed her thumbs together in a way that she always did when she was nervous.
Wait. It couldn't be that she was shy?
Realization struck, and it finally occurred to Eli that she had only started taking those huge gulps of her drink when things got too heated on the screen. The flush of her cheeks … Could that have been from blushing, instead of alcohol?
His gaze must've lingered on her for too long. For probably the first time since the movie started, she turned her eyes to look at him. "Um, don't mind me," she smiled, seemingly with some effort. "Don't miss the next scene—" she nodded toward the screen.
Then she froze when she saw what was playing.
Following her stunned stare, Eli shifted his attention back to the movie. The second intimate scene was going full-force now. A bit more subdued than the first one, after the main characters calmed down from their dramatic escape, but the slow and measured body motions only made the scene feel more sensual.
Given the expression on Harper's face when her eyes landed on the screen …
Holy shit, she really was shy!
Eli was dumbfounded. The first thought that came crashing into his mind was: how could someone who wrote adult romance books be shy about a movie like Bullet to His Heart? In the grand scheme of the market, these scenes really weren't that wild at all!
The second thought that followed close on the heels was: geez, she'd better not be thinking of him as a pervert now, for bringing her to see such an off-limits movie.
Eli took a silent sip of his own drink, trying to process how things ended up so derailed. He certainly hadn't intended for it to turn weird like this. It was Harper who said that she relied on movies and books for inspiration … What kind of movies and books was she talking about, if she couldn't even handle this one?
Or maybe he had made the mistake of completely misjudging her character. Ever since he saw the bold premise and edgy language in her web novel, he had been trying to adjust to this new image of Harper, a daring vixen who had long shed her timid shell. That impression was only reinforced by the sight of her when they met outside the theater — when she shimmied over to him in that tight-fitting dress and those tall stilettos like she was gliding down the catwalk, she was one hundred percent the sexy woman who wrote steamy romance scenes, not the eighteen-year-old girl he remembered.
So he had simply assumed that she'd be open-minded enough when it came to mature topics, that they'd be able to watch this movie and talk about it as if it was a textbook. But he had forgotten that she was just a girl after all. He had forgotten that no matter how adventurous she looked, it was still natural for a girl to be "lightweight" when it comes to watching this kind of movie with a guy.
His eyes darted to the mini bar again. Harper was back to focusing on the dessert tray, as if she was determined to devour those cookies with her stare. Was she planning on camping there until the end of the night? With a helpless inward sigh, Eli rose from his seat. "I suppose I'll mix something for myself," he said, moving over. "Want to swap places? You can always bring those cookies to the couch."
He watched as Harper nodded hastily, almost too eager to return to the loveseat and put some distance between them.
Oh well. Looked like he'd better start making a completely new plan to help her with that writing career.
** Harper **
At the end of the night, Harper thought that she might as well have died of embarrassment.
There actually weren't that many love scenes in the movie, only three. But each of them was different and gave off a whole gamut of feels together. The first one was wild and passionate. The second one, which she missed a good portion of but somehow still remembered clearly, was tender and shimmering with sparks of real emotions. And the third, near the end of the story where the spy had to complete her mission and kill the general, was full of unspoken angst. If Harper was watching this with some heart and a clear head, she'd probably even agree with Eli that these scenes were superbly done, and that there was indeed much to be learned from them.
But how could she have either the heart or a clear head, sitting in that intimate theater box with Eli all night?
If not for Eli's convenient timing for making his drinks, if not for the lucky fact that both of the later love scenes coincided with his trips to the mini bar, Harper wasn't sure if she could make it. She also wasn't sure if he was intentionally doing it for her sake … Did he somehow notice her flushed face and evasive glances? Did he somehow figure out that she was actually far from experienced when it came to movies like this?
She tried not to think too much about those questions, in case the answers would necessitate digging a hole in the ground and burying herself in shame. But they bugged her the entire night nonetheless. Kept bugging her on her way home, and kept bugging her as she tossed and turned in bed. When Sunday rolled around, the same thoughts were still stuck in her head.
In utter frustration, she grabbed her phone and decided to text the first contact she saw:
[ Hey Chelsea, I could really use a drink. Got time today? ]
~ ~
"What? You went on a date with him?" Chelsea's eyes went wide as saucers.
The two of them were meeting for dinner at La Cantina, their go-to pub. Chelsea had just started digging into a plate of loaded nachos when Harper divulged the gist of last night's story over a Guinness and some generic background music.
"N-No!" Harper blurted. "We went to see a movie at a theater. That's not a date."
"You went to see a movie, in a private lounge for just the two of you. So yeah, that's a date." Chelsea grinned. "Way to go, girl! Hit the mark on the very first day! Is he handsome?"
"It's most definitely not a date! It's— Wait, you don't know what he looks like?" It took Harper a moment to realize what Chelsea's question implied. "I thought you knew him."
Chelsea shrugged. "I was originally gonna put you in touch with one of my friends. That was a she, by the way — I wasn't thinking about giving your book to a guy to edit at first — but anyway, she got back to me and said one of the other editors on her team was interested in helping you instead, and she recommended him cuz his specialty suits your story better. So I thought why not?"
It was Harper's turn to stare with eyes like saucers. No wonder something felt off when Chelsea gave her Eli's name! Was it really fate that her web novel somehow ended up landing in his lap?
"Now tell me," Chelsea urged, "what's he like? Tall? Handsome? Rich? Smoldering hot? Did you feel any sparks?"
"No! I mean, yes. No, I mean—" Harper groaned helplessly, palming her face. "I mean … I know him, actually. He's an old friend from home."
Chelsea's hand paused midair, the nacho in her hand still tethered to the plate by a thinly stretched string of cheese. "Oh," she managed after a few seconds of processing.
"Yeah, exactly." Harper whimpered, seeing that Chelsea finally got the point. "Awkward, isn't it? I haven't seen him for years, and he just suddenly popped up like that and … and read this indecent novel I wrote! And apparently that made him think I'd enjoy watching an indecent movie! And—"
"I thought you guys watched Bullet to His Heart."
"The unabridged Bullet to His Heart. It had about an hour of sex scenes." Or at least, that was how long it felt like to her.
Chelsea's eye suddenly lit up with a peculiar light. She picked up her food the rest of the way, crunched on it, then gave Harper a meaningful look. "So you've never watched this kind of movie with him before?"
"What? Hell no! I was still in high school when I saw him last!" Harper wouldn't even try to conjure up an image of them doing what Chelsea suggested. Honestly, she could barely picture Eli being the type of guy to enjoy these movies in the first place, given the proper impression he had always made in front of her … But then again, the same could be said about her and steamy romance novels, so who was she to judge?
Chelsea watched her with intense focus as she battled that discrepancy in reality. "Hmm … and you've been friends for the whole time you've known each other?"
Harper blinked. "Pretty much. Why?"
Chelsea's eyes lit up some more. "Want to hear my professional opinion on why he invited you?"
Harper blinked again. Everyone knew what Chelsea's professional opinion meant — she was the relationship guru in their friend circle, the best channel of gossip and a surprisingly reliable source of advice. Her eyes were the sharpest when it comes to interpreting mixed signals, cheating signs, and predicting upcoming drama. No one would ever turn down an insider's scoop from Chelsea.
But what did any of this have to do with the movie night?
"Um, sure," Harper said anyway, with some curiosity. "Though I thought it made sense that he picked this particular movie to help me with my book."
"Oh come on, girl!" Chelsea rolled her eyes dramatically. "Men aren't so innocent! You seriously never suspected he's interested in you?" She lowered her voice and leaned forward across the table. "I bet he was using the movie — hell, maybe even this whole deal about your book — to test the waters and see how far he can take things with you!"
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