One Wild Night

Marissa was pacing her living room, her stomach alive with butterflies. It was stupid to be nervous about going on a date with a guy she'd already had a child with. Then I guess I'm a moron, she thought wryly, wringing her hands.

Brian had said he would pick her up at six. Marissa had been dressed and roaming her apartment restlessly since fifteen after five. She'd left her hair loose. Her only makeup was mascara, eyeliner, and lip gloss. She'd dressed in a pair of jeans that hugged her hips and a black sweater that was tight enough to show off her curves. It was just dinner and a movie; she didn't want to look too nice.

He's seen me naked, she reasoned. Who cares what I wear? He's already seen what's under it.

She froze as a knock echoed through the apartment. "Just a second!" she managed, her mouth going dry. She darted to her bedroom and checked her appearance in the full-length mirror next to the closet. She ran a brush through her hair, dabbed on a bit more lip gloss, and took a deep breath.

Answering the door, she found Brian in black jeans and a black short-sleeved button-down shirt, the top few buttons left undone to offer a tantalizing glimpse of smooth, tan skin. A hint of eyeliner emphasized his gorgeous brown eyes and his hair was in messy spikes. He looked perfect.

"Hi," Marissa said shyly.

"Hi," he echoed, flashing a tiny, knee-weakening smile. "Ready to go?"

Marissa nodded. She grabbed her purse from the table by the door and followed him down to the parking lot. He opened the passenger door for her. So he's a gentleman. She smiled and sank into the plush leather. The door thumped shut.

Brian rounded the car and slid in behind the wheel. In the confines of the car, Marissa could smell his cologne. It was nice and she breathed in deeply while he was distracted with backing out of his parking space.

He glanced at her as they turned out onto the highway. "This is weird, right?"

She laughed softly. "A little."

"Let's make a deal. For tonight, let's pretend like the last, um...sixteen months?...never happened. We're just two people that are attracted to each other, hanging out and seeing where it's gonna go."

Marissa nodded. "I can do that."

Brian reached over and twined his fingers with hers. "Good. So...Chinese or seafood?"

"Seafood," she decided. It had been a while since she'd had seafood; Chinese, on the other hand, was something she indulged in at least once a week.

"Red Lobster it is."

"Food's the easy part, mister," she teased. "What movie are you taking me to see?"

"Well, since I'm a starving artist--"

Marissa snorted.

"--I'm not taking you to a movie. We're going to rent whatever you want to see and go back to your apartment to watch it."

She gave him a knowing look.

Chuckling, Brian shook his head. "Don't even think it. I solemnly swear that I will behave myself as long as you do."

"I always behave," Marissa stated.

"Yeah," he drawled with a smirk. "So do I. Evident by the fact that we have a child together."

She snickered. She realized she was relaxing gradually, that being with Brian was easy, and that she was really enjoying herself with him.

"What do you do for fun around here?" he questioned, watching the passing buildings.

"The same thing y'all do in California," Marissa replied. "We go to bars and get wasted."

"What about before you turned twenty-one?"

"We conned older friends into buying us alcohol and letting us get drunk at their houses."

"Marissa," he chided, a glint of amusement in his dark eyes. "I'm serious. What did you do for fun around here when you were younger?"

She shrugged. "Movies, the skate rink, miniature golf, the mall...typical teen stuff."

"You really were a good girl, weren't you?"

"Yep. Even since I turned twenty-one, I usually only go to bars if a band I like is playing."

"Are there a lot of good bands around here?"

"A few."

Brian pulled into the Red Lobster parking lot and came to a smooth stop in an empty space.

"Wait," Marissa said as he was opening his door.

"What is it?"

"Are you sure you don't want to just pick something up and go back to my apartment?"

"Are you trying to get me alone and take advantage of me?"

She rolled her eyes. "In your dreams. No, I just thought you might want to enjoy dinner without being bothered, and someone is bound to recognize you."

"I don't mind. I always have time for fans." Brian frowned. "Unless it's going to bother you?"

"No," Marissa assured him. "I'm fine with it. Actually, I think it's really sweet that you're always willing to talk to a fan."

"I'll try not to be rude," he remarked as he stepped out of the car. "But tonight is all about you, so any fan who comes over better be ready for a quick dismissal."

A grin spread involuntarily across her lips. Brian waited on the sidewalk for her and, after again taking her hand in his, they walked into the restaurant.

****

After the meal, during which only two fans approached Brian, they spent almost an hour picking out the lamest-looking horror movies they could find. Brian insisted on buying some junk food, though Marissa swore she wouldn't be able to eat any of it because she was stuffed from dinner.

They returned to her apartment. She kicked off her shoes and went to the kitchen for a couple of drinks while Brian put in the first movie, waiting on her to start it. Marissa situated herself Indian-style on the sofa, her Coke cradled in her hands. He hesitated only an instant before lowering himself next to her, not so close that they were touching but near enough that she could faintly feel his body heat.

"We should turn all of the lights off," he commented as they watched the opening credits.

She glanced at him.

"I already promised you I would behave," he said, getting to his feet. "Does my word mean so little to you?"

"Sorry," Marissa murmured.

He shook his head. He killed all of the lights in the apartment and came back to the sofa, sitting perhaps a shade closer than before. She bit her lip, studying him in the flickering light from the television.

But the sexual tension was soon forgotten. Brian began making fun of the movie, and Marissa joined in. They were laughing and thoroughly enjoying themselves and she was again struck by how easy it was to be with him. As easy, in fact, as having a movie night with her girls.

"Oh, my God!" Brian exclaimed at one point. "What the fuck?"

They were in the middle of their third movie, Four Boxes.

"My sentiments exactly," Marissa said, frowning.

"This is the worst one yet," he declared. "I have no idea what's going on."

She giggled. "I do. Some screenwriter thought that he or she was being deep."

Brian leaned forward, snatching a bag of white cheddar popcorn off the table and tearing it open. He dug out a handful and offered the bag to her. She absentmindedly took her own handful, focusing intently on the television.

"This is the worst movie ever!" he groaned an hour later. "Can we turn it off?"

"No!" Marissa scolded, grabbing his wrist as he picked up the control. "We have to see how it ends!"

"Who cares how it ends?"

"We've made it this far! We can't quit now!"

"The hell we can't."

"Brian Haner Jr.! You're a quitter!"

"No, my dear," he replied, stopping the movie. "I am a preserver of sanity."

She laughed. Suddenly, she heard the muffled sound of her cell ringing in her purse. She ran to the table by the door, where she'd left her purse, and rummaged for the slender purple phone. Caller ID showed that it was her dad.

"Killer Klowns from Outer Space or Dark House?" Brian called.

"Hang on!" Marissa called back. "It's my dad!" She flipped open the phone. "Hello?"

"Sweetie?"

With that one word, Marissa's stomach twisted with fear. She couldn't remember a time her dad had ever sounded so vulnerable.

"Your mom is in the hospital," he announced.

Her hand clenched on her phone. "Is she...?"

"She's unconscious," he said.

"I'm on my way." Marissa hung up and seized her purse. At the jingle of her keys, Brian appeared in the hallway.

"Marissa?" His tone was questioning and concerned.

Marissa swallowed hard. Her hands were trembling as the fear mounted inside her.

"What's wrong?" Brian demanded.

"My mom's in the hospital," she said shakily.

"Okay. Here." He ducked back into the living room and turned off the television. He reappeared seconds later with his keys in his hand and her jacket over his arm. He handed her her jacket. "I'm driving. Let's go."

"Brian--"

"Let's go," he repeated, ushering her towards the door.

Marissa pulled on her jacket and let him lead her out of her apartment and down to his car.