I know this one!
48 Hours Without A Superman by Kathryn Ann Kent.
Here's a quote:
Clark resigned himself to this thought pattern, and just as the opening credits began to roll, he reached into the bucket to find a few kernels of popcorn.
He froze.
His hand had hit the rough, buttery popcorn, but it had also hit something else. Something soft and smooth. Something small and delicate. Something that also froze at the contact with his skin. Looking down into the popcorn, his suspicions were confirmed. His hand was brushed up against hers.
Not knowing what else to do, he pulled his hand up and out of the bucket. His palms were sweaty, his heart was beating a mile a minute, and his thoughts were racing even faster.
Had she reached for the popcorn at the same time on purpose, or was it just a coincidence? Did she think that he had done it on purpose? Had she even noticed that they had touched? Did she care? What should he do next? Should he go in for the popcorn again? Or wait a while? Or just leave it entirely alone for the rest of the night?
Clark forced himself to take a deep breath -- a super-deep breath -- to calm down, and he began to reason with himself. First of all, she didn't know what Jack had done -- neither did he, exactly, for that matter. Second, she wasn't getting nervous and panicky over a little touch, so why should he? After all, they'd touched hundreds of times before. They'd even *kissed* a couple of times!
But somehow, sitting in a dark movie theater was forcing him to think of things a little differently. He wished that she was thinking of things a little differently too.
See ya,
AnnaBtG.
