When he laughed or spoke, people watched. They hung on. They coveted every tiny bit of him.

He had the potential to decimate everything around him.

Me included.

Maxx pulled me to a stop outside the local movie theater, a building built in the 1940s. I had been inside only a handful of times and had been obsessed about possible mold spores in the bathroom. It had a dank, musty smell that no amount of popcorn and air freshener could get rid of.

Looking up at the marquee, I was both delighted and surprised. They were advertising their Cult Hit Saturday. They were playing a series of lesser-known movies for a fraction of the usual admission price, and one particular movie that was listed had me especially excited.

“You want to go see this?” I asked, jerking my thumb toward the poster of one of my all-time favorite movies, The Doom Generation.

“I’ve been waiting to get you in the dark,” Maxx teased, purposefully closing the distance between us. I took an involuntary step back, creating some necessary space.

“If bullshit were music, you’d be a big brass band,” I quoted. Maxx let out a deep laugh.

“I should have known you’d be a fan,” he stated, looking at me with appreciation.

“I love obscure movies. My sister and I went through a phase where we watched Doom Generation every weekend,” I answered, smiling at the memory of us sitting around quoting dialogue and laughing until we couldn’t breathe.

Maxx grinned down at me, and I found myself smiling back at him. And then he did the most peculiar thing. As though without thinking, he lifted his hand and cupped my cheek. His thumb swept up the curve of my face, his blue eyes intense and serious.

“You’re beautiful, Aubrey. But when you smile, you’re breathtaking,” he said softly.

Well, damn. His words were designed to make me melt, and they did, even as I fought hard to resist them. Who was I kidding? What girl wouldn’t dissolve into a puddle of girlie drool after a comment like that?

Cleanup on aisle twelve!

He was looking at me with the sort of tender expression that men generally reserve for proms and marriage proposals. It made my insides flutter.

And then he dropped his hand and moved away from me. I stood there, bewildered, my body and heart still buzzing.

Maxx’s personality changed so quickly it was hard to keep up. But there were flashes of sincerity, like just now, that made it easy to overlook the times when it was obvious he was trying to be someone else.

Maxx held his hand out for me to take, but I just stared at it dumbly.

“We need to head inside if we don’t want to miss the start of the movie,” he said, waggling his fingers.

“Okay,” I agreed finally, tentatively putting my hand into his outstretched palm. Our fingers laced together, and he gave my hand a small squeeze.

He bought our tickets and popcorn, ignoring my pleas to let me pay my own way. This was beginning to feel too much like a date.

And deep down in the farthest recesses of my heart, I hoped it was. Stupid, stupid Aubrey!

When we were seated in the theater, we still had ten minutes to spare before the movie began. We sat in an easy silence, and I was amazed at how I was able to sit beside him and not feel awkward.

It was actually kind of . . . nice.

Maxx ate his gummy bears, shooting a smile my way every so often. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he bit the head off a red gummy bear before popping it in his mouth. He repeated this act of decapitation over and over again as he polished off the box of candy.

“What did those gummy bears ever do to you?” I quipped around a mouthful of popcorn.

Maxx grinned right before ripping the head off the last bear in the box. “They should know better than to be so damned delicious,” he answered, licking his lips after swallowing.

I couldn’t help but blush at his words.

“I don’t know anything about you,” I announced without preamble, again shocking myself with how readily I dropped my guard around him, how quickly I began scouting for information.

Maxx cocked his eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you were looking for information.”

“Why the mystery, Maxx? You got something to hide?” I asked with a bit more vehemence than I had intended, our relaxed companionship over.

Maxx’s eyes darkened. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, Aubrey. All you have to do is ask,” he said firmly. The theater was almost empty. Only a handful of people occupied the seats. But I still worried about being overheard.

I cleared my throat, trying to regain some control over the situation.

“Well, what’s your major? Clearly it’s not medicine, and it has something to do with corporate finance,” I asked like an idiot. Maxx barked out a laugh.

“That’s your question? What’s my major? Do you want my star sign too?” he joked, and I smacked his arm, giving myself permission to touch him in that casual way.

“Let’s start with the small stuff and see where we end up,” I volleyed back.

Maxx reached over and stole a handful of my popcorn, tossing a few kernels into his mouth. After he polished off his pilfered snack, he wiped his greasy fingers on his jeans. I tried not to be grossed out by that.

“I’m a business major with a concentration in economics,” he said.

“A business major? Really?” I asked in disbelief.

Maxx frowned, clearly annoyed by my incredulity. “Yes, a business major. Why is that so hard to believe? I’m not some dumb-ass coasting through school,” he remarked defensively, his mood turning on a dime once again.

“It’s just you’re . . . well . . . you . . .”

“Got busted for drugs? Or is it that I’m on probation and have to sit in that fucking room every week talking about my goddamned feelings?” he asked angrily. Great, I had pissed him off—royally, to judge from the way his jaw was ticking.

“I’m not judging,” I started to say, but Maxx cut me off.

“The hell you’re not,” he bit out.

“Look, I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to sort yourself out. You’re in group. You’re doing your community service. I’m not belittling any of that.” I tried to backpedal. But if anything, my words seemed to make him even angrier.

“You don’t know shit about me or my choices. Or why I’ve done the things I’ve done. You don’t know me, Aubrey,” he hissed, his eyes boring holes into mine.

As if possessed by something I didn’t entirely understand, I reached out a hand and wrapped it around his clenched fist on the armrest. I leaned in until his face was within an inch of mine.

“But I want to, Maxx,” I said softly. And I realized how true that statement was. There was something about Maxx Demelo that made me want to dig, to find out all the good and the bad. But I reminded myself that this probing was overstepping all sorts of boundaries

Maxx’s nostrils flared, and he took in a deep breath as though my words were painful for him to hear. He closed his eyes, his brow furrowing. “Please, Aubrey,” he murmured.

Though I wasn’t sure what his plea was for.

Please, Aubrey, drop it?

Please, Aubrey, I want you to know me?

Please, Aubrey, this is the most mind-numbing conversation of my entire life, so shut up already?

Before I could push for more, the lights went down, and Maxx turned his hand palm up, folding his fingers around mine in the dark.

The heat of his skin enveloped mine, and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to pull away or not.

But I didn’t. I opened my fist, which had clenched tightly after his initial touch, and threaded my fingers through his. We held hands like high schoolers on our first date. It was innocent and surprisingly sweet.

Soon the intensity gave way to something even more bewildering—contentment, comfort—again with that strange easiness that unfolded like it had always been there. For a girl who didn’t get close to people, here I was, tiptoeing into whatever this was without hesitation.