“You like the final-girl aspect,” he said, taking in her expression.
“It’s one of the things I like most about horror movies. People seem to think horror is anti-woman, but I think a lot of it subverts gender dynamics. In most cases, you don’t want to be the dude in the horror movie. The dudes get dead. They ride in like the hero to save the ladies and the villain is like—nope. The women save themselves.”
***
Hill had stopped eating and was listening intently, watching the sparkle in Andi’s blue eyes. This woman wasn’t only beautiful, she was fucking smart. He’d sensed that from the start, but hearing her talk about her passion brought that intelligence to the forefront. He bet a lot of people discounted her as the “quirky, cute girl” with her bright hair and nose ring and silly T-shirts. But that outer image was smoke and mirrors.
She stopped talking and smiled when she caught him staring. “What?”
“Nothing. I just feel like I should start calling you Professor,” he said. “You probably really could teach a class on this.”
She sipped her drink, looking pleased. “Maybe I will one day. Lucky you, you get to be my guinea pig and listen to me wax poetic.”
“I’m here for it. So horror movies aren’t anti-woman,” he said. “I’m taking mental notes.”
“Well,” she said. “Let’s watch. They have their pro-woman moments but also some problematic ones. Like the women who have sex are more likely to die—slut-shaming at its finest. Final girls, especially in older movies, are virgins. That changes over time as culture shifts on premarital sex, but still.” She made a sour expression.
“What?”
“I just realized I forgot to ask if you were okay with nudity,” she said.
His brain didn’t compute for a second. Hearing her ask if he was okay with nudity made his mind go in a decidedly unneighborly direction. Yes I am. Very much so. How about right now? “Huh?”
She cocked her thumb toward the television screen. “This movie has boobs. Is that going to make it awkward to watch with your neighbor?”
His mind clicked back into place. “Oh. Boobs. No, it’s fine. I’ve seen those before.”
She grinned and reached out to pat his knee. “Good for you, Hill!”
He laughed at her unexpected reaction. “You’re weird, Lockley.”
She nodded and turned back to the TV. “Yeah, I get that a lot. All right, now that we know you’re not going to clutch your pearls over the R-rated parts, we’re good to go.”
She leaned over and clicked off the lamp, plunging them into near darkness, and hit Play. The iconic fast-paced music even he was familiar with started up, a glowing jack-o’-lantern appearing on the screen. He watched intently as the movie opened with the view of a house, presumably from the killer’s point of view.
The killer was spying on the couple inside as they were making out. Hill swallowed a bite. “Uh-oh. Guess she’s toast.”
“Poor nonvirgin,” Andi agreed.
Hill sipped his drink, his muscles tightening a little as the killer snuck inside and up the stairs, stalking the girl.
“And here are the previously promised boobs,” Andi said, gaze on the screen, fork paused halfway to her mouth.
“Right out of the gate with the nudity. Hello, seventies cinema.” Hill winced when the killer attacked the girl. “This music is intense.”
“Music can make a horror movie. And the use of silence, too. This movie does both really well.” She kept her eyes on the screen, and he watched her profile in the blue-silver light. “It’s a tool filmmakers have that I don’t get to use in my books. I wish I could force people to listen to a certain soundtrack while they read my books.”
“Your books are scary enough on their own,” he said before he could think better of it.
She turned her head, confusion there, and hit Pause on the movie. “You know my books?”
He groaned inwardly. If he was worried about her thinking he was a stalker, he’d just given her a checkmark in the YES column. He forced a shrug. “I saw one of yours when I was walking through The Dog-Eared Page earlier today. I figured I’d give it a try. I’m about halfway through Thirsty. You’re good at what you do. It’s creepy as shit.”
“You’re reading one of my books,” she said as if still processing that.
He narrowed his eyes, trying to pin down her tone. “Is that bad?”
She pursed her lips as if her frown got caught halfway there. “No, it’s not…bad. It’s… I don’t know. I feel a little strange when someone I know is reading one of my books. It’s this weird vulnerability thing. Like you’re seeing my secrets or something—even though I know that’s dumb when the book is out there for any stranger to read.”
“I can stop.”
She waved her fork at him. “No, no, it’s fine. I know I’m being weird. Just don’t tell me if you hate it. I won’t ask you what you thought when you’re done.”
He smiled at her flash of insecurity. “I already know I’m not going to hate it. It’s really good—and darkly funny. And if it helps, I don’t know you well enough yet to recognize any secrets that may be encoded in there. Except that maybe you got really pissed at someone in high school and secretly wish for some serious revenge.”
Her expression flattened.
“Oh no,” he said with a laugh. “Did I actually guess right?”
She stared at him for a second and then scoffed. “Who didn’t get pissed at someone in high school?”
He lifted his drink. “Truth.”
She gave him one last look and then turned back toward the TV. “Okay, stop trying to distract me with flattery to get out of the scary movie. We’re doing this.” She hit Play. “Let’s meet baby Jamie Lee Curtis and her fashionable tights.”
Chapter Eleven
Hill is reading my book. Andi was trying not to pick that apart but…she was totally picking it apart. Was he just curious? Or was he trying to impress her? What did he think of the gory scenes in the book? Or the sex scenes? The story was about a teen but was definitely an adult book. Her cheeks grew warm at the thought of him reading some of the explicit stuff she’d written. Her actual sex life was nonexistent, but her imagination was quite the wild child. Did he think she was into the stuff she wrote about?
More than anything she found herself wondering if this was a date in his eyes or just a friendly thing. She no longer knew what answer she wanted.