Free Spell Struck by Ariella Moon

"I better hold it. You might faint when Shay Stewart comes on."
    Can't he see how much he resembles Hollywood's bad boy? " Shay is Evie's crush, not mine," I said in his ear.
    Aidan brushed back my chin-length hair. His calloused fingertips grazed my ear, fluttering my abdomen. "And who is your secret crush?"
    You. " Haven't got one," I lied. The screen went dark in the two seconds between trailers. The next trailer played — a tragic love story due out on Thanksgiving. The boisterous theater crowd hushed. The hospital setting reminded me of Amy and my dream. Renewed worry engulfed me.
    I glanced at Aidan. He leaned forward in his seat, his index finger slanted across his lips, his jaw propped up on his thumb. While watching the hospital scene, his face seemed to morph into a younger version of himself. He appeared so sad and vulnerable. Empathy and something more coursed through me.
    Aidan lowered his hand. His finger pressed against my skin, shooting a delicious tingle up my arm. When I didn't move away, he hooked his finger over mine. My breath caught. We stayed, frozen, hyper-focused, for what seemed like three lifetimes. Then Aidan trailed his fingertips across the back of my hand. The soundtrack, popcorn smells, and theater audience melted into the background. The world narrowed down to the unspoken grief and need entangled in Aidan's touch.
    I rotated my hand so my palm faced upward. Aidan hesitated. Our gazes locked in the flickering light. The spell link humming between us lit up like blue lightning. At least I think it was the spell link. Aidan plunged his fingers between mine. Our palms pressed together, igniting a current. Air shuddered from my lungs. Magic rippled from us in successive waves.
    My heart stuttered. My breath ceased. Every cell within me vibrated. Troops of fairies or dragonflies took flight in my lower abdomen. It's possible blue lightning shot from my boots.
    Good thing I wasn't holding the popcorn.
    Shock and alarm scudded across Aidan's face. He squeezed my hand, then released it. When I glanced down, he was scrubbing the knuckles of his left hand up and down his right palm.
    My heart clutched as if the evil queen from my favorite television show had ripped it from my chest and crushed it. Is he trying to erase me? Hurt, confusion, and anger bubbled up. Who did he think he was? I glanced about for an escape. There had to be an empty seat somewhere .
    There wasn't. Trapped, I tried to lose myself in the movie.
    The magic we had ignited toyed with the time-space continuum. It seemed like only twenty minutes instead of two hours had flashed by before the screen faded to black and the final credits rolled. The couple seated beside us left. Aidan rose, too. I grabbed his wrist and pulled him back into his seat.
    "We have to wait until the absolute end."
    "Why?"
    I searched the bottom of the bag for the last kernel of popcorn and chomped it. "Because they always show a great teaser for the next installment. Besides, there's no way Evie will leave until then."
    "Okay." He sat.
    I waited for him to scrub my touch from his wrist. Instead, Aidan cradled my hand and traced the silver leaves and vines on my wrist with his finger.
    Okay, maybe it wasn't me he was trying to erase. " That tickles."
    "Cool design."
    "I copied it from a book cover." An ancient grimoire, as a matter of fact.
    Parvani and Zhù crept into our row. As they made their way past a mother-and-daughter group, Aidan released my wrist. By the time Parvani and Zhù plopped into the now vacant seats beside us, Aidan and I stared at the screen as though nothing magical had transpired. But I swore I heard the rapid beat of Aidan's heart, and my wrist still buzzed from his touch.
    Too quickly, the last credit rolled and the teaser scene aired. When it finished, Zhù said, "We better help Jordan extricate Evie."
    "I'll text Jordan to get moving. We're supposed to meet Tiffany in the lobby," Parvani said.
    "Evie doesn't have a cell phone," I