Believe It Or Not (An Eddie Munson Story)

Cinema

Eddie's POV: 

My hands are clammy against the steering wheel as I turn onto Ripley's street. I grip it tighter, trying to reassure myself this is just like any other Saturday night, but to be honest I am a nervous wreck. I've never been on a date before in my life, even with the girls I saw before Ripley. Typically those relationships were only for one thing and I didn't really need to worry about romancing them. But Ripley is different. She always has been. When our relationship became physical, I worried that maybe she would want to use me like the rest but I should have known better. She had just been too shy to ask me out, just like I was too nervous to ask her. Now that she is mine, I fully intend to give her everything and more and that is why I am so worried about tonight. I want the first date to go well. 

I pull into her driveway and cut off the van, reaching into the passenger seat for the bouquet of forget me nots. I play nervously with one of the stems as I walk up to her door and ring her doorbell. A few minutes go by before she finally opens the door. My jaw drops. 

Ripley doesn't look like herself. Well I mean, she looks like Ripley but she's dressed completely differently from what she normally wears. She's got a black top on tucked into a flared pink plaid skirt that is so short a part of me wants to push her inside and lock the door behind us, canceling our plans. There are silver chains dangling from the front of her skirt and she's got a chunky black belt around her waist accentuating her synched waist. She's got a pink cardigan buttoned loosely over her shoulders and her legs are covered in fishnets, making me hot all over. I watch her legs for longer then I probably should, admiring the curve of them peeking through her tights. She's wearing combat boots on her feet and they give her some height, bringing her a little closer to eye level. It's almost startling having her blue gaze so close to mine and I'm having a hard time remembering where I am, much less why I'm here as she stares up at me, a small grin on her luscious lips. I lick my own, feeling achy all over. 

"What do you think?" She asks a little nervously and I notice a crease form between her eyebrows as she studies my face. She gives me a little twirl, her arms held out and I fight the urge to audibly groan at the sight of her ass in that damn skirt. I run a hand over my face trying to think of old ladies, math homework, and car parts, doing all I can to not show how much I truly love this fucking outfit. I know she wants my honest opinion though so I sigh, looking down at her with a slightly pained expression. 

"You're killing me," I huff and her face relaxes into a smile as she moves slowly forward. I stay as still as a statue as she slithers forward and wraps her arms around my waist, pressing her body against mine. She tilts her head back to look at me, her face much closer then normal because of the shoes and she smiles seductively. 

"I bet Dustin wouldn't have looked this good," she purrs and I laugh. She smiles as she watches me, her whole face glowing. I wrap my arms around her shoulders and pull her a little closer, kissing the corner of her mouth, some of the tension from my body leaving at her joke. 

"At least if I went with him I would be able to pay attention to the movie," I say. "As it is I probably am not going to retain much with you sitting next to me, wearing this." 

"I wanted to surprise you," she says sweetly, kissing under my jaw and my breath hitches slightly. My heart hammers in my chest and I squeeze her tightly for a moment before I let her go and step back, needing some distance before I lose my resolve. 

"I am surprised," I tell her, looking over her outfit again. "It's almost as if you found the perfect mixture of both of us in an outfit and I like it." 

"I do too," she says with a sheepish grin, playing with the hem of her skirt. I look down and realize I'm still holding the flowers in my hand. I hold them out to her and she smiles. She holds them to her chest and thanks me, heading inside for a moment to put them in a vase before she meets me back at the door, locking up and taking my hand as I lead her to the van. I help her up into the seat, my hand grazing her thigh and I smile as she blushes slightly. I run around and hop in, turning the key in the ignition and heading for the theatre. Music plays quietly over the speakers and I place my hand on Ripley's thigh, massaging her smooth skin through the fishnets. She squirms a little and I know she is just as reactive to my touch as I am to touching her, making me beam. We park outside of the theatre and get out, holding each others hand as we approach the theatre.