The neon glow of the adult theatre’s marquee pulsed like a living thing, casting rippling reflections across the wet pavement. Abhishek adjusted the collar of his leather jacket, the cool evening air doing little to calm the heat pooling low in his belly. He had been watching Priya for weeks—her little figure moving through the dimly lit aisles of the theatre, her dark eyes scanning the movie titles with an intensity that made his pulse quicken. Tonight, he would finally speak to her.

The theatre was nearly empty, most of the patrons preferring the anonymity of the back rows or the private booths upstairs. Priya stood near the concession stand, her fingers tracing the edge of a popcorn box absently as she waited for the next showing. She was petite, barely five-foot-two, with a cascade of black hair that fell past her shoulders and skin the color of warm honey. Her full lips were painted a deep crimson, and when she bit down on her lower lip, Abhishek’s breath hitched. He had imagined that mouth wrapped around him more times than he could count.