It was our third date, our first was dinner and our second a day playing laser tag. We went to see a movie, a dramatic movie with deadpan comedy mixed in to keep the interest of its teen audience. We paid for our own tickets, splitting the snack bill. I dragged her to the back of the theatre, like any good teen in puppy love, happily selecting the darkest corner to seat us both. Not that Caitlyn was complaining.
The movie started, the lights dimmed and my heart raced. Not because of the movie, or Caitlyn's intoxicating lavender perfume, but because of every trashy teen love story I've read and almost every teen movie I've seen. A darkened movie theatre is where relationships are taken to all new levels, and I wanted ours to follow suit.
But there was a problem with that want. Who would do the taking? Me or Caitlyn? Who would casually put 'The Move' on the other? Would Caitlyn even know about 'The Move'?
The opening titles were barely over when I got my answers. There was not going to be any cheesy 'Move' with Caitlyn. No, my girl is very to the point, as she proved when she casually threw the armrest up and confidently slipped her arm around my waist, playing with the exposed skin.
I looked at her in shock before moaning slightly as her hand hit a sensitive spot. I took her startled expression as encouragement, capturing her open lips with mine.