Page 3 of Batty About You (Pine Ridge Universe #23)

“The campus is closed?”

“Schools are closed, too. The Halloween parade starts at noon. It’s a big deal.” Cathy Bainbridge resettles her glasses on her nose and hands me a stack of menus to take back to the front. “Is this your first Halloween here?”

“Actually...yes. Even though this is my second year at Pine Ridge NYU, last year I was home for two weeks at the end of October when my father had emergency hernia surgery.

It was minor, but my mother had us holding a vigil at the church ‘round the clock, cooking enough food to feed several armies...”

“Your mother sounds like the stressed-out version of mine. We have five kids in the family, including me, and we’re super close.”

“Same. I had to fight tooth and nail to get to an out-of-state college,” I giggle. “Are you going to the ball?”

“As a server for the caterers. The Pine Loft is doing the food, and there’s a massive five-tiered cake that my bestie is making.

Claire of Cakes by Claire? She’s married to the chef of The Pine Loft Coffee Shop.

And Cindy—you know, Cindy, who covers some shifts here?

She works there, too. We’re going to work the event and party a little in the lull.

We got matching black dresses so we look ‘uniform’ enough to be caterers and cute enough for our dates.

” Cathy’s smile suddenly falls. “Well, Cindy and Claire are married. They have dates.”

“Oh.” I feel a pang that’s all too familiar—being the single friend.

I’ve been in that boat for seven years, because Bogdan grabbed my heart pretty much from his first letter, and he never let go.

I don’t want to rub that in, though, so I blurt out, “I got free tickets from someone in the honor society on campus.”

“Kappa Delta Pi?” Cathy squeals. When she’s not a part-time waitress, she’s a full-time second-grade teacher, and it shows in her beaming smile and her always upbeat but patient personality.

“Pi Kappa Lambda. The music honor society, not the educational one, even though I’m going for music ed.”

“Still...honor society chicks rule,” Cathy says, throwing the rock n’ roll hand sign up in the air.

I have to laugh. There is nothing badass about us. We’re the quiet ones with ponytails and big purses with books in them. If there’s a break, she’s got her gradebook out, and I’ve got my textbooks open or my laptop up.

Cathy and I move to the stack of dark green linen napkins and the trays of cutlery to roll up new sets of silverware for the dinner crowd. I’m bursting to tell someone, anyone, about what I think might happen tonight, but I don’t want Cathy to feel bad.

Fortunately, her big smile switches to a smirk. “Kelly, you look like you have a secret you’re dying to spill. Is it about the ball?”

“Yes. My... My boyfriend lives in New Jersey. He’s coming up tonight.

I think it’s going to be... I think it’s going to be such a special weekend.

” I hurriedly roll a spoon, fork, and knife into a cylinder of soft green, then reach for more cutlery.

I blush and keep my face tilted down so Cathy can’t read the excitement in my eyes and ask too many questions.

I’m meeting a man I know inside and out—but I’ve never even seen more than a blurry group photo of him while he’s got an oboe in his mouth.

I think he wants to propose. I’m going to say yes.

I think it’s going to be a weekend of firsts; first date, first kiss, first time, and first—and last—proposal.

It doesn’t feel rushed to me. It feels like I’ve carefully stored each of those special moments up in our seven-year relationship, waiting to unpack them and share them with Boggie.

If we’d lived closer together, they would have been all spread out, but they weren’t.

Even given that, if we hadn’t been broke kids in big families with overbearing parents, some of these moments would have happened already, and tonight would just be the culmination.

I can justify anything and everything with Bogdan, but I’m pretty sure anyone else I tell about this will caution me that meeting a “stranger” on Halloween night is going to end up as a true crime podcast.

Cathy clears her throat. “What are you wearing?”

“Oh, just a pretty dress I have. My old prom dress.” I wanted to wear it with Bogdan.

I wanted him to come to my senior prom with me, but I knew my parents would have grilled him like a pork chop, and I chickened out and didn’t ask him.

Instead, I’d gone with my stand partner, Tommy, who spent the whole night trying to work up the courage to ask the girl he actually liked to dance.

“I found a mask to go with it—one of those pretty masquerade types? It’s white and lavender with rhinestones and feathers over one eye.

I prefer pretty things to spooky or scary things. ”

“Same. The ball is pretty tame.” Cathy sighs over her stack of cutlery and napkins. “I wish I’d gone to my prom—not that my old dress would fit,” she pats her generous hips.

“We should wear the clothes that fit us, not worry about making our bodies fit the clothes,” I tell her sternly. “In my father’s town in Mexico, you would have the men following you home. They like us rellenita,” I say with a playful wiggle of my own smaller hips.

“I take it that means fat?” Cathy laughs and rolls her eyes.

“It means well-padded, and the more padding on the hips, the more men you would have following you home,” I giggle.

“Ooh, well. If I don’t meet someone soon, then I might have to have your family pack me next time you go for a visit. Do you have a date for tonight?”

“Mmhm. Bogdan.”

“Bogdan? I’ve never heard that name before.”

“He’s Romanian-American. I think it’s traditional,” I say casually, even though I know it’s traditional.

I even know the meaning is “Gift of God.” I looked it up when I was in tenth grade, and I thought it was a sign.

The lonely Catholic girl, the oldest daughter who has to be the little mother, who wears hand-me-downs and studies for fun, who will become a nun or die an old virgin, suddenly gets the sweetest, funniest pen pal in the world?

Yeah, he was a gift. Still is. “He’s my best friend and my boyfriend,” I whisper, mostly to myself.

“Oooh, girl! You never even told me you were dating.”

“He doesn’t come around much. I didn’t want people thinking I just made him up.”

“There speaks the voice of someone bullied in high school. Well, you show them tonight. Dance the night away with Bogdan, and I’ll make sure you two get big slices of cake with extra frosting. Trust me, this is the good frosting. The kind you could eat off a spoon. Or you know... a boyfriend.”

“Cathy!” I screech, and then cover my mouth, nearly stabbing myself in the nose with a fork.

“Okay, you two.” Chef Ferguson comes striding in, ice blonde bob looking extra severe, and high cheekbones and elegant lips looking even more fierce in a mixture of burnt pumpkin eyeshadow and thick black eyeliner.

“This place is closing down at four. I want you both out of here now. You have to get ready for tonight.”

“That’s right, I need to stop and pick up some candy for trick-or-treaters.” Thoughts of finally meeting Bogdan and all that we might share this weekend have knocked the shortened schedule and early closing out of my head.

“Trick-or-treating is over by dark, hon. The schools are closed for a reason. In Pine Ridge, Halloween day is for families. Parades, trick-or-treating, face painting, all that stuff. Tonight is more for...lovers.” Chef’s eyes wander to Mr. Ferguson, the co-owner, manager, and savior of the restaurant, who runs the front of house.

“Will you be at the party, too?” I ask, trying not to blush and stare at the heated gaze the normally cool, self-possessed chef is sending towards her husband.

“Not for a hundred grand. Tonight, I get Mr. Ferguson all to myself without any orders to expedite, no steaks to temp, and no doorbells ringing. I’m unplugging the television, turning the phones on silent, locking the door, and pulling out a pumpkin soufflé and a chocolate lava cake.

” She practically pounces on Mr. Ferguson as he turns towards us.

Cathy takes my arm and pulls me towards the staff lockers by the back exit. “We should go. Now.”

Setting the mood, setting the mood. Candles. Clean sheets.

“That’s it? That’s all I have?” I zip up my dress with a wriggle and suck in my breath to make sure my strapless bra holds.

It’s times like these that I miss my roommate and even her parrot. At least it would always talk back.

She would tell me I need condoms. Fancy lingerie. My roommate, not the parrot.

Hell, knowing tonight is Halloween, she’d have said I need a slutty witch’s costume with a skirt that barely covers my butt and stiletto heels.

I don’t need any of that. We don’t need any of that. All we need is us.

I smooth down my skirt and pick up my phone with sweating palms. Is it too needy if I text him again? He’s driving. I told him to meet me a little before eight...

It’s six. He’ll still be on the road.

The October sky is darkening outside the bedroom window of the off-campus apartment. Orange and purple ribbons of sky are reflected in the hint of river I can see that separates the campus from the rest of Pine Ridge.

Pacing. Sweating.

It’d be nice to go out for a walk, feel that little nip in the air, and enjoy the sunset.

But not in these heels. And if I don’t wear heels, my dress will trip me. Why did I get such a freaking long dress??

Oh, right. Mom and Daddy pushed this one because it was long, and all the other girls at the prom had dresses cut up to their—

Never mind.

“Why did I get dressed so early?” I ask the empty air. “Dios mio...”

It’s no good. I need to talk to someone—and lately that’s been Bogdan.

Boggie. Sometimes I even call him Bogey, like Humphrey Bogart, just to hear him talk like Bogart, and the conversation dissolves into him saying things like “This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” and“Here’s lookin’ at you, kid. ”

I dial.

Boggie answers just before it goes to voicemail (And yes, I do know how many rings it takes before it starts playing Mozart’s Oboe Quartet and then tells me to leave a message.) God, how can I be so crazy co-dependent on a man I’ve never even seen face-to-face?

“Kelly! Hi!” He sounds breathless.

I smile so hard. Good. He must be as nervous but hyped as I am.

“Hi! I... I’m so nervous, I’m sweating through my dress. Not that it has sleeves. It has no sleeves,” I blurt out.

“Nervous? Do you want me not to come?” he asks.

“No. No, no. I’m just... I can’t tell anyone else how nervous I am. You’re the only one who will get that this is such a good nervous. Like I’ve been waiting for this for so long, and it’s about to happen.” I dab my eyes and realize that if I cry, I’ll probably have to redo my mascara.

“I’m nervous, too. So nervous. But... I’m trusting you. Trusting in us.”

“That’s exactly it! We’ve been through so much together long-distance. I can’t wait to start being together together.” I blush suddenly. I’m picturing a certain special kind of togetherness, and a new sort of heat zips through me.

For years, when I've fantasized in the shower or alone at night, he’s always been the blurry figure I imagine making love to me.

I know we’re both inexperienced, but in my head, it doesn’t matter.

In my head, it doesn’t matter that the first time might be messy or awkward, because with him, it’ll only get better every time.

“I can’t wait for that, either. If tonight goes well, maybe—maybe we can start getting together more? I mean...” Bogdan gulps so hard I can hear it, “I think our parents would be okay with it, don’t you? If everything I’m hoping happens, happens?”

He means if he proposes, and I say yes. Does he have a ring? Will he go down on one knee?

Do I care?

Nope.

“I think so, too.”

“Kelly, should I have called your dad? Is he going to rip my wings off—I mean, legs off! Is he going to rip my legs off for not asking for his blessing?” Bogdan shouts.

There’s a lot of wind mixed with his breathless voice now, and I feel bad that he’s driving through some storm to get to me. “I think it’ll be fine. Is the weather bad?”

“Huh? Oh, just a little windy. But I’ll be there soon. I’m nervous, too, Kelly. I just want you to remember that I... That I love you with all my heart. I would never hurt you or be mean to you. I might not look like much, but there’s a good heart in here.”

“I know that! Why do you think I’m so in love with you, novio?

” I practically purr, warm, wet heat suddenly seeping through me in an unexpected rush.

Just his voice sends me into that private fantasy realm where we’re locked together, bodies pressed together, him inside of me, my tight little walls shuddering around him like I’ve shuddered around my fingers for the past two nights.

“So in love?”

“So in love,” I repeat with a smile. “Can’t wait to see you.”

“I’ll meet you at the White Pines Estate.”

“I’ll be looking for the car with the Romanian front plate and all the dents in the bumper.”

“You know me way too well.”

“I like that! I like that we have no secrets from each other. That’s why I can tell you that.

.. That I’m not worried about what happens after the ball.

Even if we’re not very experienced, or we’re not going on some fancy vacation or getting a suite at some swanky hotel, if we have each other, that’s enough for me. ”

“So glad to hear you say that, Kell. As for secrets—well, I’ll share all of mine with you. Some might be a surprise.”

Ooh. He does have a ring, I bet. I bite my lip and hold in a squeal.

Then I decide, what the heck. If you can’t squeal with your best friend, who is also your boyfriend, the guy who says he wants to marry you—or at least hints at it, then who can you squeal with?

“Eee! Can’t wait, baby! I’ll see you soon. ”