Her Younger Millionaire

Tina considered pursuing it — the feel of Aiden’s skin under her palm was making her remember that kiss from earlier — but then Marcellus got kidnapped and her attention was back on the screen. They had all day, she thought, resting her head on Aiden’s chest. And there was something to be said about just lying together like this, not having s*x or making out or even having it on the table at the moment. Most of the time she felt like they rushed through everything, got each other off as fast as possible because they might get interrupted at any moment. She loved it, loved everything she and Aiden did to each other, but it was nice, to take it slow. To just be together for once.

When the movie was over, the rain had let up a little bit, so Aiden ordered pizza — “No onions, spinach for you, bacon for me, and no Christina, I’m not eating mushrooms, don’t even ask” — and they ate it sitting on the couch with some old movie starring Christopher Walken playing in the background. “Popcorn?” Aiden asked her around a mouthful of cheese. “I’ve actually got more John Travolta movies in there too. Well,” he amends, “the three that count, anyway.”

“Kind of a theme,” Tina observed. She glanced outside, at the angry gray sky and the sheeting rain. It’s barely afternoon, even if it didn’t look like it. “Yeah, sure, let’s watch them all.”

Aiden popped a couple of the bags of popcorn while Tina scrounged up some cups from the bathroom. There were still a couple of beers from last night in the fridge, but Aiden also got a two-liter when he ordered the pizza, and so they poured themselves some of that (it was root beer, which Tina actually liked enough to drink, unlike most sodas) and then settled in to watch Face Off. Aiden found a bowl somewhere for the popcorn, and they sat side-by-side and balanced it on their thighs. Aiden also produced a can of Pringles and a bag of Doritos, which made Tina raise an eyebrow at him. “What did you do, raid the snack aisle before going on this mudder?”

“Pretty much,” Aiden said, and popped the top.

The couch, their laps, the floor, and somehow Tina’s hair are all littered with popcorn and chip crumbs by the time the credits roll. Aiden grinned as he brushed kernels out of the hair by Tina’s ear. “What did you do, try to feed it?” he chuckled. “Would explain a lot, actually.”

“My hair is not sentient,” Tina grumbled, fighting him off. “Stop it, you have butter all over your hands.”

Aiden leaned forward, brushing a kiss over Tina’s mouth, and then whispered in that ear, “Was that a request?”

“A—” Tina started, just as Aiden touched her mouth, rubbing the pad of one thumb over Tina’s lower lip. Ah, Tina thought. That kind of request.

Lightning flashed then, outlining the whole room in white, and thunder split the air, much louder than before. The lights, the TV, everything went off.

“Guess we’re not watching Swordfish,” Tina said finally, and Aiden laughed into her shoulder.

“I could think of a few other things to do,” he smiled.

“Water first,” Tina smiled back. “That was way too much salt, man.” She kissed Aiden, a brief press of their mouths, and sat up, combing her fingers through her greasy (buttery?) hair, wincing as she worked out the snarls. She could hear Aiden get up, swearing a little as he made his way toward the bathroom.

Her hair was as good as it was going to get without a shower, a brush, and a lot of conditioner. Tina got up too, stretching her sated limbs, and then padded over to the nightstand, where she was pretty sure she left her phone. After a couple of misses, she found it and swiped the screen, waking it up. It seemed as bright as a flashlight when it flickered on, and Tina squinted at it, reading the time. It was barely six pm, she saw, a smile touching her mouth. They still had hours.

Then her gaze caught on something else at the top of the screen. It took her a moment to register what it meant.

It was March 20th.

It was her birthday.