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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Brady

The team is hyped. Drinks are already flowing, and it’s easy to see it’s going to be a long, loud night here at the football house.

Nearly everyone is home, showered, and changed into their costumes, the sorority across the street having taken on the task of setting up for the Halloween party tonight while we were at the game.

There’s not too much to the decorations, just some black lights and neon-green spiderwebs tacked along the walls, a few streamers and things hanging, and one of those foil fridge curtain things you have to push aside to slip in the door.

Someone vetoed the “Monster Mash” shit they had playing, so it’s back to the repeated party playlist.

Chase steps through the patio door, spotting me across the bonfire, and we both start laughing.

“Bro, did I step back in time?” He grins, slapping my shoulder and taking a cup from the table, filling it to the brim with foamy beer.

“I look good, yeah?” I smirk, holding my arms out, the cheap faux-fur robe-like thing clipped around my neck nearly sliding off my shoulders.

“You look like you’re in your element.” He chuckles and I join in.

“Right? Can’t wait for Cameron to see.”

Chase is dressed as Maverick from Top Gun , the aviators a damn good look on him, and he’s got the perfect hair for it. He raises a brow at my comment, and I shrug.

“Inside joke.”

“Oh, you’ve got those now, huh?” His green eyes are teasing as he meets mine over the rim of his cup.

I flip him off, bending slightly to look in the kitchen when it gets a little louder, and spot the source of the commotion.

Alister has made his way down, grinning and dapping people up—full acceptance in the house for what might be the first time.

Someone hands him a beer, another stops him for a shot, and I can’t help but watch.

“What’s he supposed to be, Hugh Hefner?” Chase wonders.

My eyes fall to the velvety robe he’s got on, and I throw my head back and laugh.

Oh, Cammie Girl. Fucking hilarious. At least I know they won’t match. Ain’t no way is she showing up with bunny ears on.

“Let me guess.” Chase studies me. “Another inside joke?”

“You heard from the girls yet?” I ignore his question, looking around to avoid his grin.

“Nah, I talked to Mason though, and he said he’s walking them over, but they had to wait for his parents to get back with food first. Guess they didn’t feel like eating at the game.”

I nod, settling into one of the chairs.

I’m on my second beer when Mason walks out and everyone around laughs.

He grins good-naturedly, sticking his hand out and shooting silly string all over with a laugh.

“Fucking Spidey!”

He gives a full spin, wearing a tight-as-shit onesie.

“Holy shit, bro, you actually wore it!”

“Dude, Deaton picked it out. What was I supposed to do, tell him no?”

I chuckle. Poor guy’s got no chance when it comes to that little man. “Hope you’re wearing a cup, my boy, or else everyone here is gonna know what you’re packing in there. What’s your woman gonna say about that?”

He frowns. “Don’t remind me about people seeing too much,” he mumbles. “Just…wait for it.”

Before I can question him, whistles and catcalls sound, and he huffs, but there’s a small smile on his lips.

Then the girls are sauntering through the door—first Payton, then Paige, and lastly mine.

I mean Cameron.

My brows jump, my jaw might drop, and what is this fire in my stomach?

Chase glares, suddenly really thirsty as he gulps down his drink, and I can’t even stalk forward like I planned, give her a little show of my own.

No, my eyes have locked on to the perfect pigtails Cameron’s sporting. They’re pinned up high, one solid, smooth curl spun in each, thin baby blue ribbons tied in bows holding them in place.

Her outfit is best described as shrink-wrap, a tiny strip of the same shade of blue bound around her chest. It’s only high enough to cover the swell of her breast, no longer than where the edge of a swimsuit would reach at the bottom, pressed tight against her ribs.

Her toned stomach is glimmering, her sun-kissed skin having been rubbed in some sort of sparkly shit, the little flecks blinding as she moves and the fire bounces off her.

Her belly ring is a little ghost dangling, the tip of it teasing along her bottoms—and what the actual fuck, man?

I glare at her lower half. How is she even walking in that?

At first, I think she got the parts mixed up and the thin little strip covering her is meant to be the top…but the top is even smaller.

That little thing is not a skirt.

She does a cute little spin, and… Nope. Uh-uh.

I dart forward, my arm snaking around her waist from behind, and haul her to me .

She squeals, a giggly, girlie sound I’m not sure I’ve heard from her before but already want more of, and grips my arm, tipping her head a bit as I bury my face in her neck.

“What in the heaven’s little devil are you doing to me?” I ask.

“It’s the pigtails, isn’t it?”

“You mean these perfect handlebars on your head? No…”

She hits me with a grin over her shoulder, none of her earlier sadness to be found. “You wanna grab on, Boyfriend?”

“I want to cover you in my fur so no one can look at you.” No one but me.

“Call me Bubbles.”

“Bubbles?”

“Yeah, you know the Powerpuff Girls?” When I say nothing, she laughs, spinning around and freeing herself. “Did you not notice Payton’s red wig and Paige’s cute little black one?”

I look up, scanning the other girls’ outfits, that no, I did not notice when they came in. Looks like my eyes went straight to Cameron.

“Okay.” I nod. “But Payton’s actually covers some of her skin, and Paige…” I pause. All right, so she’s about as covered as Cameron is, but a frowning Chase is hovering awfully, obviously , close to her, even if he is pretending she doesn’t exist at the same time, so there’s that.

“Wait.” Cameron pushes off my chest, moving farther away, finally getting a good look at my outfit.

Her mouth drops open, her hand lifting to cover it as she laughs. Blue eyes wide and pleased, she stomps her boots in excitement—leather boots that go up past her knee, I might fucking add.

Her smile is infectious, intoxicating, and now it’s my turn to pose.

I make a fist, showing off the leather cuff things tight across my forearms, the fake metal clicking around my waist where my fake sword and knife hang.

I’ve even got a temporary tattoo covering my entire shoulder on the side where the feldr, as the dude who sold it to me called it, lies.

I call it a fucking furry shawl for men.

I spin then, and she starts laughing loudly, in that way where I know, if I were looking at her, her eyes would be glossy, her head tipped back, exposing that silky, slender neck of hers.

“Shut up!” She reaches up, her dainty fingers running along the miniature clipped-in braid I somehow got to stick to my short hair. It’s light enough, only hangs to my neck, and feels annoying as hell, but her reaction makes it worth it.

She shakes her head, shoving the shawl thing back a little to run her eyes over the tattoo stamped there.

“I fucking knew you were born in the wrong time,” she teases, beaming up at me. “You are giving Ragnar Lothbrok some serious competition.” Her eyes trail over me slowly, from head to fucking toe, and a light buzz slithers along my spine.

Mason steps forward, holding out his phone. “Look at these two,” he says to no one in particular, and we all shuffle in.

It’s a picture of Ari and Noah in their costumes, angel wings on the back of Ari’s white dress, metal cuffs covering Noah’s shoulders.

They’re posed so he’s facing her, lips pressed to her hand as she smiles at him, so I can’t see much of what he’s wearing, but there’s something about the pose and clothing that’s familiar.

As I’m staring, a second picture comes through, and I throw my head back with a laugh.

“Wait, are they…?” Chase scowls, not sure he’s got it right.

“Romeo and Juliet?” Cameron smiles. “Yes, yes, they are.”

“The Leo DiCaprio version.”

“Classic.” Mason grins, shoving his phone…I don’t even know where in that Spidey costume. “All right. We’ve got a sitter for the night. Let’s not waste it.”

He pulls Payton close, kissing her temple, and shuffles toward the house.

The rest of us follow behind, the girls already dancing around as we enter and the music gets louder .

We make drinks and head over to the room with the dartboards, playing a few rounds. We chat and laugh, and about an hour in, the girls are already two drinks ahead of us, our little group leading them to the kegs for their fourth round of flat beer.

“So we gonna just watch and see how all this plays out?” I tease.

“Not sure I’ve ever seen Paige drink more than a half a beer before.” Chase looks our way, frowning at whatever he sees. “Not that I pay attention or anything, I just—What?” he finally snaps.

Me and Mason laugh, bumping each other as the girls start belting out the lyrics to the Spice Girls “Wannabe” using their cups as pretend mics, and all I can think is yeah …

I wanna be.

“Pretty sure Cameron had a shot or two before I picked them up, but she seems to be handling herself just fine.” Mason meets my gaze a moment before looking back to the girls.

“Payton, on the other hand, never drinks, so I might have to steal her away after this one.” Mason’s eyes trail his woman’s every move.

“And would you be taking her back to her studio, where your mama and daddy are waiting for you, along with baby boy?”

Mason smirks, shaking his head nice and slow. “Nope.” He claps his hand on my shoulder. “Stay outta my room tonight, boys.”

“You mean no sleepover?”

“There will be zero sleeping for us tonight, my man.” He waggles his brows. “How about you?”

I don’t realize he’s talking to me until I look over and find Chase is staring at me expectantly too.

Now it’s my turn to snap. “Wait, what?”

“How far do these boyfriend duties of yours go?”

“You left out a word,” I deadpan.