Page 26 of On My Side (Quiblings #3)

Audrey

Playlist: So High School | Taylor Swift

Halloween has always been my favorite holiday.

I love wearing a costume and the candy and the scariness of it.

And, lucky for me, Piper loves it, too. Every year, we dress up, stop by the inn for “impromptu” trick-or-treating, and then drive to a nearby town for “real” trick-or-treating.

I always pick one of the bougie towns in Fairfield County, where they always have elaborate decorations and hand out full-sized candy bars.

When she was younger, Piper got overstimulated by the Halloween festivities, but over the years, we’ve learned what works to make it easier: trick-or-treating before it’s dark and the scary costumes come out, earplugs, loose costumes she’s comfortable in, and a safe word if she needs out.

This year, I have a boring teenager who decided last year she’s too old for trick-or-treating. We stayed home and I introduced her to the Scream franchise, but this year, she was invited to her first Halloween party.

I know I should be happy. She’s growing up, finding her own way, blah blah blah blah. But it’s hard to be happy when I’m sitting alone on my porch in the same witch costume I’ve worn for a decade.

When Piper told me yesterday she was going to a party, I realized with sadness the two bags of candy I bought for us to enjoy would have to be used for trick-or-treaters.

Last year, we’d left a bowl of candy on the porch for trick-or-treaters to watch the movie uninterrupted.

But what am I supposed to do this year? Watch the Scream franchise alone ?

That’s basically how Drew Barrymore got murdered in the first film.

So now I’m the pathetic mom sitting on her front steps in a witch costume—complete with green and black striped thigh highs, of course—coming to the sad realization the little cottage behind the inn is not prime trick-or-treating real estate.

“Have fun,” I tell Piper, trying to put pep in my voice. I want her to be a teenager, to go out and have fun and not spend all her time with her mom. That’s normal and good development! I’m the abnormal one.

“I will,” Piper says, fixing the toga she has wrapped around her. Her choppy blonde hair is curled and she’s painted her nose pink.

“What are you supposed to be?” I ask, opening my third Kit-Kat of the night.

“Pig Latin,” she says with an eye roll, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Right, right, of course,” I say. “How silly of me.”

She condescendingly pats me on the head and reaches into the bowl for a pack of Reese’s Cups. I try to pull the bowl away, but alas, I am too slow.

“What happened to not trick-or-treating, missy?” I tease as she rips open the packaging.

“I didn’t say trick-or-treat, did I?” she counters before shoving the entire peanut butter cup in her mouth.

“Are you biking to the party?” I ask as she skips down the steps.

“No. I’d have to wear a helmet and my hair looks too good,” she mumbles through the chocolate. “It’s a few blocks over on Jefferson.”

“Sounds good. Remember to text me when you get there with the address and parents’ names, please. And be home by eleven, but I want a text at ten. And do not turn off your location.”

“Got it! Bye! Don’t be too embarrassing!”

I wave her off and pull out my phone to open my e-reader app. I’ve been reading for an hour, with zero trick-or-treaters, when I’m surprised by the first text I’ve received from Ren since our makeout session a few nights ago.

Yep, this man kisses me like I’m the air he needs to breathe, gives me a hickey, pirouettes off the porch, and doesn’t text me for multiple days.

Granted I didn’t text him, either, but we still kept our routine of me joining him with coffee for his cooldown mile.

It’s been… different. I’d been hoping he’d pull me into the wooded area at the bluffs where people sneak away to smoke and drink and ravish me for real, but alas. We don’t have a secret tryst—instead, we walk and drink coffee and make useless small talk.

Ren

taking a page out of your playbook!

I grin like a fool at the picture of his TV with the Gilmore Girls logo on it. My heart does a couple, flips too.

Audrey

i'm so proud. happy crying emoji

Ren

what are you and piper doing tonight?

Audrey

ugh, my way too cool for me daughter is at her very first high school party while her loser mom sits on the porch with an almost full bowl of candy and no trick-or-treaters in the past hour.

Ren

ouch. grimacing emoji

Audrey

yeah, your night sounds way more fun. I might give up and call it a night.

Ren

i’m sorry. You can come over and join me, if you want.

My belly clenches with a myriad of feelings—desire, anxiety. After all, this is the man who got me off while fully dressed. Also the man who released a mask kink audio this morning.

Audrey

thanks for the invite, but i told piper i’d be home, and i want her to know where i am.

i know that sounds helicopter mom-ish, but if something happens i want her to be able to come home and know i’m here.

like she said the parents would be home, but you know how many times i told my parents the exact same thing at her age? And there’s probably alcohol and weed and like… i trust her. But i want her to know i’m home if she needs me.

Ren likes my last message, and I wait a few minutes for an actual reply, but not even the little typing bubbles appear. I sigh, closing my texts to reopen my e-reader app, hopeful that he’s distracted by the shenanigans in Stars Hollow.

I don’t turn off my notifications, though. Just in case.

One hour and four chapters of omegaverse smut later, I finally call it quits and go inside. I’ve been checking Piper’s location, and she’s exactly where she said she’d be. I hate that I’m paranoid, but this is a new experience for Piper and I, and we’re still learning the ropes.

I’m settling down with a mug of tea to turn on the first Scream movie when there’s a knock at the door.

I sit outside for hours and now they decide to trick-or-treat?

I sigh and force myself to my feet. I shuffle across the floor in my green and black striped stockinged feet before opening the door.

“Trick-or-treat!” I blink in surprise at Ren, who wears a tan tunic with a brown robe over it. He has a bottle of wine in one hand, and some sort of cylinder in the other.

“I… what?” I say intelligently.

“You said you weren’t getting any trick-or-treaters, so. Here I am!” He lifts both arms and does a cheesy little bow.

I cover my mouth with my hand to hide my smile. This is better than a text response by far.

“And you’re in costume and everything!” I say, taking in his ensemble. “You’re obviously…” I trail off, hoping he’ll finish the sentence.

“Luke Skywalker, of course!” Ren says with a wink that makes my belly flip.

“Of course,” I agree, biting my lip. It’s concerning that this full-grown man can be wearing the equivalent of a nerdy potato sack and still make me want to take my clothes off.

“I thought we could watch Gilmore Girls together. I grabbed some wine, too, in case wearing full Jedi regalia wasn’t enticing enough.” He lifts the wine bottle.

I nod towards his other hand. “And what’s that?”

With a flick of his wrist, Ren is holding a fucking lightsaber.

I snort. “Incredible. Absolutely incredible.”

“That’s what I said!” he responds empathetically. “Kat told me the other night this is the reason I’ll never find a nice wife to settle down with. Literally. That’s the exact phrasing she used.”

I’m not completely certain why my stomach is flipping at this second, but it either has to do with hearing Kat’s name, or him using the word wife.

I’ve heard Sky use it a bunch of times, but Ren saying it is different. What kind of woman would he want to spend the rest of his life with? Who would he want to integrate into his already large family? Who would take his name and have his babies and wake him up by getting him off and…

“Can I come in?” Ren asks, jolting me out of my fantasy.

Oops, went off the deep end there.

“Sure,” I say, cheeks hot.

“I like your costume,” he tells me as I close and lock the door. “It’s a classic.”

“Mm, that’s one word for it,” I tease, turning to face him.

He raises a brow. “What’s another?”

“Boring.”

He laughs. “Okay, but I had fifteen students wear witch costumes today and not one of them had cool stripey stockings like that. So you’re beating at least fifteen elementary school students, which must make you feel cool as hell.”

I lift my skirt a little to show a bit more of the stockings and stick my leg out, toe pointed. “Oh, these old things? They’re my potion-making stockings.”

“Are they magical, or are you?”

I meet his eyes, and his crooked smile has my belly feeling like jello.

How dare he insinuate I’m magical when I’m pretty much the equivalent of three racoons in a witch’s costume!

“It’s them,” I say definitively, pulling my leg back in and letting go of my skirt, the fabric falling around my legs. “Definitely the stockings.”

Ren makes his way to the couch and I go to the kitchen to get us wine glasses, which is how I discover I don’t own any wine glasses.

God, I’m more of a loser than I thought, and I already thought I was a pretty big one.

I usually drink my wine in a mug, so I grab two and re-enter the living room to Ren staring at the paused TV screen.

“Why don’t you pull up Gilmore Girls ?” I ask, reaching across him for the bottle of wine, and realizing I didn’t think to grab a bottle opener.

I hope I have one of those, I usually just buy cheap screw-top wine.

“Were you watching Scream ?” he asks, eyes on the TV.

“Oh, yeah. Kinda my guilty pleasure…”

“Do you remember when you and Kat told Millie and I it was a funny movie and made us watch it, and I had nightmares for a year?”

I attempt to cover my responding laugh with my hand. “Oh, god. Did we? Are you sure it wasn’t Kat on her own?”

“Yup.” He points the TV remote menacingly at me. “You traumatized me.”