Free Lost in You by Sommer Marsden

pure.’
    ‘Like me. I’m as pure as the driven snow.’ I giggled. ‘Oh, wait, no, I’m not.’
    He squeezed me and almost in tune our stomachs growled. ‘It’s very clever and pristine. That’s how I feel about your name. And you’re pretty wonderful. Who said girls as pure as the driven snow are any fun?’
    His stomach growled again.
    ‘I think we need to feed you.’
    ‘I think we need dinner and a movie,’ he said.
    I glanced up. ‘For real?’
    ‘For real. You go raid the concession stand. I’m going to fiddle with this stuff. See what we can see.’
    ‘Dinner and a movie,’ I said softly.
    It was perfect. I got dressed and hurried out. I knew it was too perfect, but fuck … I was going to relish this while I could. One day it would all be just memories. But they’d be good memories. Stories to tell when I was old and grey. Stories to hold close on cold nights.

Chapter Ten
    ‘That was the worst movie ever,’ Dorian said with a laugh. He held my hand as we walked back towards the main entrance.
    ‘What? Action movies full of bad dialogue, bad sex scenes and bad acting aren’t your cup of tea?’
    ‘That movie was no one’s cup of tea,’ Dorian said. ‘That made chick flicks look appealing.’ Then he squeezed my hand. ‘Sorry.’
    ‘Sorry?’ I stopped at the door to a fancy store that carried things like all-white kitchen accessories, proper picnic baskets and stadium blankets that cost more than my car and were spun from pure wool harvested from the happiest, most organic lambs, which most likely received massages and regular therapy. I snorted and quickly covered my mouth. He was watching me. ‘You assume I watch chick flicks?’
    ‘What was that little snicker?’ he asked, as he pulled out his magical list and punched a number into the keypad. The door started to rise.
    ‘It was a snort. Let’s call it what it was. And I was just thinking of the blankets they sell here.’
    He pulled me in after him and found the light switch. ‘Oh, let’s get one. If you know about them then you’ve admired them before.’
    I caught myself blushing. ‘I admire all kinds of things. It doesn’t mean you should run about getting them for me.’
    His gaze was fast and serious. ‘Why not?’
    I cleared my throat, ignoring the way my heart thumped once, really hard, like a rabbit kicking inside my chest. ‘As for chick flicks, I don’t like them. I find them poofy and syrupy and very unrealistic.’
    He moved through the store looking at stuff like he owned the place. Technically speaking, he kind of did. ‘“Poofy and syrupy”. What a wonderful description. But who’s to say that the knight in shining armour couldn’t come along? The man of a girl’s dreams? The perfect key for her lock –’
    ‘Is that a sex joke?’
    It was Dorian’s turn to snort. ‘No. As I was saying, the man who …’ He shrugged and held up two stadium blankets. ‘Blue or red?’
    ‘Blue,’ I said. ‘The man who what?’
    His amused look vanished and he watched me intently. I prayed for him to speak or laugh or kiss me – hell, even to sneeze – because that moment felt weighted. Important. Serious.
    ‘The man who resonates with the heroine. Do you think that’s possible, Clover?’
    I nodded once and tried to swallow around the giant lump that had somehow grown in my throat. ‘I do.’
    ‘Good.’ He handed me the blanket and gathered a picnic basket. ‘I say we go have a picnic by the main entrance. See what’s up with the weather. And then how would you feel about a shower?’
    ‘A shower?’
    He winked at me. Usually when men wink at me I grit my teeth. I find it condescending and annoying. When Dorian winked at me I felt like we were sharing a secret joke. He winked at me to be inclusive, not dismissive.
    Big difference, I realised.
    ‘Ed, the general manager? He has a nice office with a nice shower and a nice desk and a nice but narrow sofa.’
    ‘Oh, I could sleep on the fl–’
    ‘Do not