Page 11 of Scary In Love

Jenna

Mum leaps three feet in the air, then buries her face against my back, pushing me away from two haunt actors intent on showing us their collection of dead pets.

I’d be inclined to stop and chat about them if Mum wasn’t crushing the bones in my hand. She screams in my ear when another actor leaps out in front of us, dangling some sort of rodent. She shoves me so hard we almost tumble to the floor, but I catch myself on the door handle and twist it open.

There’s never any way of knowing whether you’re headed for safety or worse horrors, but when we burst through it we find ourselves in the Tavern. It’s a stark change from what we’ve just been through, bustling with people calming their nerves with a drink.

“Is it over?” Mum says, her hands and face pressed to a wall like it’s the thing that will save her. “Please tell me it’s over.”

I’m briefly disappointed, until Mason catches my eye from his spot behind the bar. His whole face lights up, and I feel mine do the same.

“Yeah, Mum. It’s over.”

“Thank God you know all about intimate hygiene care for old women, I think I’m going to pee my pants. ”

I pull my focus away to check on her, fixing my skirt and my hair while my back is turned. Who knows what state I’m in after her manhandling me all night.

“You’re not old,” I tell her.

She is a scaredy-cat, though, and I knew she’d be the perfect companion for my second visit. These things are always better when you go with someone who thinks it’s all real. Their fear and adrenaline feed mine, even if the setting isn’t doing much for me.

That’s not the case in the Miller house though. Every room was different from the last, and I found myself getting more and more invested in the story as the family made us play their spooky games.

I’m about to turn around when something pulls me backwards, and I look down to see the head of Mason’s axe hooked over my shoulder.

“Miss Laing,” he sing-songs in character, close to my ear. “How wonderful of you to visit us again. And I see you’ve brought your friend from work.”

His voice makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end, but not because I’m afraid. I duck free of his hold and try to keep my composure as I gaze up at him. He’s as hot in costume as I remember, which isn’t helping me play it cool.

“Friend from work?” Mum scoffs. “I’m her mum.”

“Mason, this is Amanda. Mum, this is Mason.” I wave back and forth between them, and he offers her his hand. “Mum is also my boss, so technically still a friend from work.”

She shakes it firmly. “Please call me Mandy. So you’re the famous Mason Miller, are you?”

He swings his axe up over his shoulder and turns to me, his surprised expression the opposite of my embarrassed one. “I don’t know, am I famous? ”

I have no idea what Mum is talking about. We’re close, but not confessing our crushes close, and we literally haven’t spoken about him.

“The one from all the canoodling on the doorstep, according to her father.”

“Jesus,” I groan. “There was no canoodling.”

“Well, not yet anyway,” Mason retorts with a wink.

My jaw drops, and Mum elbows me in the ribs before I can hide it.

“So, you survived the Miller mansion. Did you enjoy yourselves?” he asks, and I’m grateful for the change in subject.

“Hated it,” Mum tells him bluntly. “Nearly peed myself. My daughter is the Halloween fan in our house, but she didn’t get it from me. I’m a total wuss.”

“Ah yes, your daughter is a very bold woman indeed,” he says, pressing his tongue into his cheek. “And gorgeous, which she definitely got from you, Mandy.”

He’s not wrong. Mum is undeniably gorgeous, and I’ve spent most of my life watching people flirt with her.

We have similar faces, and just like people sometimes mistake Dad for my partner, they often think Mum and I are sisters.

Except she’s glamorous, and confident, and makes friends wherever she goes, and I’m… well, not built that way.

I used to wonder if she’d have preferred a daughter who is more like her, but beyond her dislike of some of my childhood hobbies, she’s never put any pressure on me to look, or act, or dress a certain way.

After I grew out of the teenage phase of hating everyone and everything, we’ve been much closer, and even if we’re not at work, I really enjoy spending time with her.

She has plenty of her own friends, but sometimes we do things just the two of us, and I appreciate those nights the most. Not everyone is so lucky in the parent department .

“Will you stay for a drink?” Mason asks. “I’ll fix you something that’ll really rattle your demons.”

I want to tell him we’d love to, but I’m not about to ditch my own mother to stare at a barman, no matter how cute he is. And I’d much prefer to see him alone, anyway.

Thankfully, she answers before I get the chance. “I need to get home and hug my dogs and my husband before the nightmares kick in. In that order.”

Mason gives her an understanding nod, stepping back into character.

“Well, I hope you’ll grace us with your presence again soon, ladies. Be sure to tell your friends to visit us… and tell your enemies twice.”

We weave our way through the crowd, and as we step out into the cold night air, I glance back, thrilled to find him watching me leave. He blows me a kiss with that same little wave he gave me the first night, and really I hope it won’t be long until I see him again.