Chapter 232
**Sara**
I curled deeper into the plush couch, pulling the cashmere throw tighter around my shoulders as the fireplace crackled. On-screen, the leading couple had their inevitable rom-com misunderstanding that would surely be resolved in the next twenty minutes.
"They're both idiots," I mumbled around a mouthful of popcorn. "Just talk to each other."
Tom's chest rumbled with laughter beneath my head. "Says the woman who spent ten minutes earlier trying to convince me she wasn't cold."
"I wasn't cold. I was temperature-challenged."
"Right." He reached for more popcorn, finding the bowl empty. "Want a refill?"
"Yes, please." I sat up to let him move, immediately missing his warmth. "And I mean it - they're being ridiculous. Who runs away from their soulmate because of a misheard conversation?"
"Hollywood writers, apparently." He disappeared into the kitchen, the sound of popping kernels soon filling the air.
"At least add more butter this time!" I called after him.
"More? The last batch was practically swimming in it."
"And?"
"You're impossible." But I could hear the smile in his voice.
The movie couple continued their dramatic separation scene while I waited. "Oh, come on," I told the screen. "He's literally chasing you down the street in the rain. At least hear him out."
"Are you coaching the characters again?" Tom returned with a fresh bowl and settled beside me.
"Someone has to. They clearly need help." I grabbed a handful of perfectly buttered popcorn. "Though I suppose running dramatically through the rain is more romantic than 'hey, can we talk about this misunderstanding like adults?'"
"Less cinematic, though." He pulled me back against his chest, his free hand playing with my hair. "Besides, you're the one who picked this movie."
"Because it's a classic!"
"It came out last year."
"A modern classic." I threw a piece of popcorn at him, which he caught in his mouth with annoying precision. "Show off."
"Natural talent." He tossed one back at me, hitting my nose. "See? Not so easy."
I wiped butter off my face. "You're cleaning that up later."
"Worth it." He kissed the top of my head, then reached for more popcorn. "So what happens next? Does she realize he's not actually engaged to his cousin?"
"How did you- have you seen this before?"
"No, but I've seen enough of these to know the pattern. Let me guess - big romantic gesture coming up?"
"...maybe."
He laughed. "Thought so. Ten Bucks say it involves a public declaration of love."
"I'm not taking that bet." I snuggled closer, enjoying the way the firelight danced across the walls. "But you have to admit, it's cozy watching these kinds of movies."
"Especially with proper popcorn technique."
"Your popcorn technique needs work. More butter next time."
"Any more butter, and we'll need to swim to bed." But his fingers kept running through my hair, gentle and soothing.
On-screen, the inevitable grand gesture was indeed starting. I felt Tom's chest shake with silent laughter as the main character grabbed a microphone at a packed restaurant.
"Called it."
"Shush. It's romantic."
"It's harassment of restaurant staff."
I elbowed him lightly. "You're ruining the moment."
"Sorry." He wasn't sorry at all. "Please, continue enjoying the public disruption of dinner service."
"You're lucky you're comfortable." I reached for more popcorn and found mostly kernels. "And that you make good popcorn."
"High praise indeed." He shifted slightly, adjusting us both into an even cozier position. "Though I notice you're not denying the restaurant harassment angle."
"I'm choosing to ignore it in favor of the romantic narrative."
"Ah, selective observation. Very scientific."
I threw another piece of popcorn at him. This time it landed in his hair.
"Now, who's cleaning up?"
"Still you." I grinned up at him. "I'm busy watching the movie."
The fire popped loudly, sending up a shower of sparks that matched the warm feeling in my chest. This - the teasing, the comfortable silence, the way he automatically pulled me closer - felt more romantic than any grand gesture could be.
Not that I'd tell him that. His ego was big enough already.
The movie's credits rolled, and I stretched, feeling pleasantly lazy. Tom yawned, rubbing his eyes. "Well, that was predictable."
"You loved it," I teased, nudging him with my elbow.
"Sure, if you say so." He stood, reaching down to pull me up. "Now what? Another movie?"
"Nah," I said, glancing around the room. My eyes landed on the stack of board games in the corner. "How about a game?"
Tom followed my gaze and raised an eyebrow. "A game? What are we, twelve?"
I stuck my tongue out at him. "Come on, it'll be fun! We can make it interesting."
His lips curled into a mischievous grin. "Interesting how?"
"Strip version," I suggested with a wicked smile.
Tom's eyes widened, and he laughed. "You're on." He moved to the stack of games and pulled out a box. "Monopoly? Risk? Scrabble?"
"Monopoly takes too long. How about Scrabble? It's quicker."
"Fine by me." He set up the board on the coffee table while I grabbed some wine from the kitchen.
When I returned, he arranged the tiles with a focused look that made me laugh.
"What's so funny?" he asked.
"You look like you're preparing for battle."
"Hey, this is serious business," he said, picking up his tiles.
We sat on the floor across from each other and poured ourselves glasses of wine. The first few rounds were tame enough, just regular Scrabble with some light teasing and strategic blocking.
Then Tom spelled out 'STEALTH' using a triple word score, putting him ahead.
"You know what that means," he said smugly.
I sighed dramatically, tugging off my sock. "Fine, but you totally planned that word."
"I'm just naturally talented." He leaned back, looking far too pleased with himself. "Your turn."
I studied my tiles, determined to wipe that smirk off his face. The letters weren't great, but... "Ha! 'ZIPPER' on a double word."
Tom's grin faltered. "That's not even close to my score."
"But it's still points. Strip."
He rolled his eyes but pulled off his sock. "Happy?"
"Ecstatic." I arranged my new tiles. "Your move."
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