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“Drew!” she shouted. “You’re an ass!”

I laughed, her reaction priceless.

“You’re pretty skittish for someone who isn’t scared,” I teased, taking a seat next to her.

“You scared me, not the movie.” She scowled at me and pulled the bowl of popcorn out of my reach as I went to grab some. “No popcorn for you either.”

I chuckled, reaching over her lap and nearly touching the edge of the bowl. “Don’t make me pull your hair and call you a name to get what I want.”

She laughed, her head falling back as the sweet sound released from her throat. I always did like her laugh, but she was having a full-out laughing fit.

“Oh my God,” she said while laughing. “You’re like one of those bullies on the playground.”

“Only when you withhold food from me on cheat day.” I reached for the bowl again. “I will pull your hair,” I told her.

She scoffed. “I’ll pull your hair right back. What are we? Seven?”

“You tell me. You’re the one who won’t share.” I glared at her, and she was still laughing so hard, she snorted. Now I’m the one laughing.

“I hate you so much right now,” she said through laughter and more snorting.

I grabbed a piece of her hair and tugged it lightly. “Share!”

“You’re such a baby!” She swatted at my chest, pushing me away. “Here.” She poured the bowl over my head and laughed as kernels fell down my shoulders and chest.

I took a piece that fell and tossed it into my mouth. “You’re cleaning that up.” I smirked.

Once we finished the movie, I started to get up, but she stopped me. “Wait.”

“What?”

“I have to watch something happy first before I can go to bed.” She took the remote and started playing with it.

“Something happy?”

“Yeah, like a sitcom or something. It flushes the scary movie out of my brain.”

I burst into laughter. “So, let me get this straight. You watch scary movies, alone, with all the lights on, and then afterward you watch something ‘happy’ so you can go to sleep?”

“Precisely, yes.”

“So why even watch the scary movie then?”

“It was always a tradition growing up. My brothers watched scary movies every Halloween, and because I was so much younger I wasn’t normally allowed to watch the same movies as them, but on Halloween my parents always let it slide. It became my favorite tradition.”

I smiled. “All right. Let’s pick out another one.”

The following two years, we’d watch a marathon of scary movies, and it inadvertently became my favorite part of Halloween ever since.

CHAPTER TWELVE

COURTNEY

I wake up as soon as I hear the shower come on, and I breathe easy knowing Drew is home because I worry about him each time he puts on that uniform and walks out the door. Though it’s almost four in the morning, my body’s wide awake, but my eyes are screaming out in protest. I’m half tempted to burst into the bathroom and demand we talk about what happened, but considering he doesn’t remember, how would I even start the conversation? As I run each scenario through my head, they seem ridiculous, so I stay where I am and try to go back to sleep, but it’s useless.

I don’t do one-night stands. I’m not that kind of girl and never have been. One-night stands are meaningless, purely physical and that night was neither of those things to me, which is what scares the shit out of me the most. I felt an overpowering stream of emotions as we connected on the most intimate level two humans could.

The nagging feeling comes back in full force and I somewhat feel like what we’ve done is wrong. He’s my best friend. He’s my roommate. For all I know, he’s still hung up on Mia, and I was exactly what I never intended to be–a one-night stand.

For the next two hours, I toss and turn thinking about it. When I close my eyes, I feel the ghost of his lips and tongue kissing the softness of my neck. I can almost hear his moans as his warm breath grazes gently across my skin. Now that I’ve had a taste of him, one that still lingers on my lips, there’s no forgetting it. Pretending it never happened may be easier, but honestly, it seems impossible.

It’s crazy to think how much my life has changed over the past few years. If someone would’ve told me I’d be living with Drew Fisher or that we’d slept together and had the most amazing sex of my life, I would’ve looked that person in the face and called them a liar. If this same person continued to say Drew didn’t remember a lick of it, I would’ve immediately asked what I did in a past life to deserve the torture. Because it is torture. And it’s driving me crazy.