I’d seen Jessica several times a week in the month that followed. She revealed a little more of herself each time we met, exposing her innocence and vulnerability as she blossomed before my watchful eyes.

Her clothing, makeup, and hairstyles stood as proof of her growing self-confidence. She was no longer sheepish. In fact, she was becoming bold. Knowing that she felt she could trust me was rewarding. Seeing the changes made each meeting between us a pleasure beyond compare.

She walked around the front of the car and stepped to my right side.

“Are you ready?” I asked, my tone laced with a hint of sarcasm.

She gripped my arm lightly and gave me a look. “Yes.”

I glanced over my right shoulder. A playful glare followed. “Is that where you’re supposed to be standing?”

Her face washed with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Left side, Jess.” I forced a dramatic sigh. “How many times have I told you? Always walk on my left side.”

She released my arm. “I forget.”

“Well, I’m reminding you. Again. Left side. Now, and always.”

“Why do I have to always walk over there?” She stepped around me. “It seems silly.”

“Because I say so.”

She slipped her arm beneath mine and gripped the inside of my elbow lightly. “I want to know why.”

I turned toward the theater and took a few steps. “There’s a reason for everything I do.”

She tugged against my arm, stopping me from going any further. “If there’s a reason, you can tell me what it is.”

I faced her. “My right side is my dominant side. If we’re ever threatened, I need my right side to be free, so I can protect you.”

Her eyes glistened. The corners of her mouth curled upward, forming a smile. “I like you.”

“You’re pretty good stuff, too. C’mon, we’re going to be late.”

She coughed out a laugh. “Pretty good stuff, huh?”

“Yep. You’re pretty good stuff.”

“I think you’re pretty good stuff, too.”

After entering the theater and looking over the twelve possibilities of movies, I chose an action-adventure movie. “How does End of Watch sound?”

Her brows knitted together. “What’s it about?”

“Cops chasing gang members. It’s got Jake what’s-his-name in it. I like him. He’s a good actor.”

She glanced at the movie poster. “Jake Gyllenhaal?”

I gave a nod, hopeful that she liked him enough to agree to see the movie. “That’s him.”

“My stomach knots up when I watch movies like that.”

Despite my run-in with the ATF, I respected law enforcement officers, and admired them for the sacrifices they made on a day-to-day basis. Watching believable depictions of their lives was something I found fascinating.

“Movies like what?” I asked. “Cops attempting the endless and impossible pursuit of ridding this world of evil?”

“Suspenseful movies,” she said. “They make me sick.”

“Seriously?”

She scanned the twelve miniature-sized movie posters. Her eyes became fixed on one in the center. “Pitch Perfect sounds better.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Pitch Perfect?”

She looked at me. “Uh huh.”

“College girls in a dance-off?”

“Singers. They’re singers. The Bellas.”

“The Bellas are better than Jake Gyllenhaal?”

“I’m a girl. Girls like to dream. Movies are an escape. They’re like a dream.”

“You could dream about Jake Gyllenhaal.”

“I’d rather not.”

The movie theater was across the street from my house. I often walked there three times a week to see a movie, mostly alone. The few times I took someone with me, it was Teddy.

I’d been looking forward to seeing End of Watch. Making Jess uncomfortable in any way, however, wasn’t something I was prepared to do. Teddy and I could easily find time to watch it one night after our ride.

I stepped to the counter. “Two for Pitch Perfect.”

The sixteen-year-old boy standing behind the ticket machine looked at Jess, and then at me. His eyes scanned up and down my arms, pausing to make note of my full sleeve of tattoos. Dressed in my normal attire of a wife beater, jeans and boots, I looked the part of the biker I truly was.

He met my gaze. His eyes were filled with disbelief. “Did you say Pitch Perfect?”

“That’s right,” I said. “Pitch Perfect.”

He printed the tickets, handed them to me, and fought to conceal the smirk that was etched on his face. “Enjoy the show.”

Amidst hordes of giggling high school girls who were updating their Facebook status while their respective faux hawk donning boyfriends talked amongst themselves, we found our seats. While waiting for the lights to dim, I stole a few glances at Jess. She ate her popcorn one carefully chosen kernel at a time.

She was everything I wasn’t. She was soft spoken and reserved. I was loud and outgoing. She ate her Vietnamese soup with a fork and spoon, carefully twisting the noodles onto her fork before taking a bite. I used chop sticks and slurped it from the bowl. She drove cautiously – two miles an hour under the speed limit. I drove as fast as possible and accelerated from the traffic lights at a neck-breaking pace.

I couldn’t help but wonder how well we’d do together – as a couple. If she would grow tired of me, or if I’d become frustrated with her. I further wondered if we’d simply complement one another.

If she could somehow be the yin to my yang.

The lights dimmed.

She rested her head on my shoulder.

Surprisingly, I liked the movie. In fact, I enjoyed it immensely. Movies, as Jess had indicated earlier, were an escape. If I could watch one that held my interest for ninety minutes, it was worth the price of admission.

If it could cause me to smile or laugh, I left satisfied.

I sat in the theater with her long after the movie ended, staring at the blank screen.

“You want to know something?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“When I was in prison, there were two things that I yearned for. Just two. I’d lay in my rack at night and daydream of the day I could return to the free world and fulfill my desires. You’ll never guess what they were, so I’m going to tell you.”

“Let me guess.”

I looked at her. “Okay.”

“Get a cup of coffee.”

I shook my head. “Strangely, that wasn’t one of them.”

“Eat pho?”

“That wasn’t one either.”

“Okay. I give up,” she said.

“You’d think it would be seeing my kids, eating my favorite foods, or holding a woman in my arms. Maybe talking to my parents or riding the motorcycle. Something like that. But it wasn’t. The two things were coming here to see a movie and petting my cat.”

“Oh my gosh,” she gasped. “You’ve got a cat?”

“My youngest son has it now. But, I did. Why?”

“Cats creep me out. They’re scary.”

“Cats are the best. There’s nothing more satisfying than having one hop into your lap, lay down, and curl up into a ball.”

She winced in disgust. “That grosses me out.”

“If we ended up together one day, and I wanted a cat, what would you say?”

“I don’t know.” Her nose wrinkled, and she looked away. “I guess I’d have to deal with it when the time came.”

I stood. “Are you ready?”

“For what?” she asked. “To go get a cat?”

I chuckled. “No. For a cup of coffee.”

She let out a sigh. “I’d love to.”

There were differences between Jess and me, that much I was sure of. The effect those differences would have if we were ever in a relationship would have to be seen.

I felt, however, that I wasn’t willing to find out, regardless of what the outcome might be.