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“Ugh, of course he did. Tattletale. I guess he told Fang too?”
“No, he was weird about it when I suggested Fang might appreciate that info. So I told him. We decided we’re coming too.”
I sat up, instantly a whole lot less turned on. “How about no?”
“You’re gatecrashing, why can’t we?”
“’Cause I’m a tiny person who will blend in with the crowd. You and Fang might as well walk in with fireworks exploding out of your hats while shaking your hips in grass skirts. You couldn’t be any more ‘look at me.’”
“I respectfully disagree. I’m allergic to grass, so I would never wear a skirt made from one.”
I folded my arms across my chest and glared at him.
He held his hands up in mock surrender. “We’ll all wear costumes and masks. No one will know who we are. And hey, if everyone is staring at us, that gives you even more opportunity to fly under the radar.”
He actually had a point.
“I get to choose your costume,” I declared.
He raised an eyebrow. “Only if I get to choose yours.”
“I’m not agreeing to that.”
He huffed out a sigh. “You drive a hard bargain. But I submit. You can choose. I don’t care what I wear. But there’s no way I’m letting you near those guys without people who are watching your back. Vaughn alone isn’t enough, and it isn’t fair for it to be all on him. Caleb will have an entire party on his side. You need more than just one man.”
It seemed like I somehow suddenly had three.
* * *
It was that time of year where costumes were available in every department store. But Kian had driven us into the city on a mission, with the assurance he knew the very best place to get amazing ones. Somehow, he’d talked both Fang and Vaughn into coming in the same car as us and had subjected us all to an hour of old Jessica Simpson songs on the drive in.
I was pretty sure Fang’s ears were bleeding as we pulled up in front of a parking meter, and Vaughn and Fang practically dove out of the car, desperate for silence.
Kian glanced over at me. “Was it something I said?”
“More like something you sang. Let’s go.”
To his credit, Kian hadn’t been lying about the amazingness of the pop-up costume store. They’d taken over an old warehouse for the weeks leading up to Halloween and filled the place with everything dark and spooky you could think of. There was everything in that one space, from decorations, toys, candies, and row upon row of costumes.
Kian made a beeline in that direction, while the rest of us followed behind at a much less enthusiastic pace.
But my mood picked up when we reached the costumes and there were hundreds to pick from. I shifted through the racks, bypassing Robin Hood, Ariel from The Little Mermaid, and a slutty nurse costume. “Can’t deal with a man in tights. Ariel had no feet. And a slutty nurse is so cliché.”
Kian glanced over at me. “I vote for slutty nurse. Much better than scales and no feet.”
“Hard pass.”
I took out a pig costume and held it out to him. “Yours.”
He took it in. “I’d rather go as a slutty nurse.”
I grabbed that from the rack and thrust it in his direction. “Even better.”
“Rebel,” he warned.
I laughed, pushing them back in. “Fine. What about a farmer for you, Fang? If Kian goes as the pig, the two of you are couple dressing.”
He stared at me with wide eyes. “Are you joking?”