“You’re being really quiet,” I said.

Sacha finally looked down at me. He hadn’t put on any hair products and his hair was loose and shiny, the longer length falling to the side over the shorter side of his scalp. “My mind is somewhere else,” he said apologetically. His light eyes glanced at the neckline of my dress so briefly I almost missed it.

What I didn’t miss was his fingers going up to touch the braid draped over my shoulder.

“You look really nice,” he commented.

I would have preferred “pretty” but beggars can’t be choosers. “Nice” was polite and not at all creepy or aggressive. I smiled at my friend, one of the best-looking friends I’d ever had in my life. “Thanks.”

He blinked at me, smiling that distant smile one more time, making me wonder where exactly his mind was. “Want to share a popcorn?”

“Are you asking if I’ll get some so you can eat it?” I stared at him suspiciously.

He shrugged the same way he always did. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Well, I always did appreciate people who were honest.

“I’ll buy a drink if you get the popcorn,” he offered.

I snuck another glance at him. He was wearing the same thing he usually had on when he wasn’t onstage: running shorts, a T-shirt and his good pair of green-and-black tennis shoes. “Done.”

He curled his lips behind his teeth, giving me a hopeful look. “Butter?”

“Butter.”

A few minutes later, we settled into our seats in the theater with our concession-stand purchases. He gestured toward the extra-large water bottle he’d bought. “Want some?”

“Sure,” I said, already taking it out of the cup holder. I twisted the lid off, held it up a couple inches above my mouth and was about to pour it when he groaned.

“Drink from the bottle. I don’t have cooties.”

“You never know,” I mumbled, putting the opening to my mouth. He plucked the medium-sized bag of popcorn from my lap while I took a sip.

Handsome, perfect Sacha, with a voice that gave me goosebumps every night, grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved half the fistful directly into his mouth. “So good,” he moaned through an overflowing mouthful.

Isaiah hadn’t reappeared since he’d left for the restroom. Sacha had sent him a text message telling him we’d wait for him inside the theater. Nearly at the same time, we both kicked up our legs to rest our feet on the back of the seats in front of us.

My new friend grabbed more popcorn and shoved it into his mouth.

I ate a small amount at a time, too busy watching him ingest handful after handful. It was amazing. It was seriously amazing watching him eat so much so quickly. “Are you planning on eating it all, fatty?”

He gasped in the middle of grabbing more. “You think I’m fat?”

“Yes,” I lied, eyeing the flat slope of his stomach like I hadn’t seen him shirtless nearly every night. If I were ever honest with myself, I would admit I could draw his six-pack from memory. “Do you only run?” I couldn’t remember ever seeing him work out. On the other hand, he was usually always eating.

He mumbled something between a mouthful of popcorn that sounded like “I lift weights too.”

“When?”

“Usually during the opening band,” he explained. “We have dumbbells and a bench in the back of the trailer.” The timing made perfect sense. I rarely saw any of the guys after doors in the venue opened.

“You?”

“Just cardio.” I held up my arm and slapped the bottom of my upper arm. “See? No muscle.”