Before you begin reading, I would like to let you know that this is purely fictional. When you've been single for as long as you remember, there are side effects like imagining scenes in your head and well, you get the idea. It's just a short story, but I hope you will like it as much as I do.
I was at the movies watching Sea of Monsters with Connor. He sat on my left nibbling my popcorn. His hand brushed mine now and then.
Suddenly, there's a scene where Percy Jackson was panting and sweating and injured and he looked at the camera seductively (for me anyway).
And so, the fangirl in me got unleashed. "Holy macaroni Logan you're a sex god."
Beside me Connor frowned and crossed his arms. "Hmm. Choose. Me or him?"
I looked at him trying to contain a snicker.
"Logan, of course." I smirked and reverted my eyes to the screen.
"Whatever," he grumbled, then stretched his slightly muscular arm behind my neck, placed his palm on my head, and slowly rested my head against his right shoulder.
I heard his breaths and after a while we were breathing in rhythm.
"You," I whispered. "Every time."
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