I smile at him over the rim of my glass. “Creepydoll.”
He gives me a contrary smile and sweeps his gaze over the room. “That guy has a good chance.” He tips his glass at the man wearing a business suit suspended high over his shoulders so it looks like he’s clutching his own head. “Or Nate Williams,” Dylan adds with a straight face. “I mean, being a pirate on Halloween is sofucking original. How did he even get the idea—it’s so left field.”
I knock my knee against his, smiling. “Don’t be an asshole.”
His eyes expand. “Now,thatwould’ve been the perfect outfit for him. A giant asshole. He wouldn’t even have to bother with a costume.”
I cackle into my drink. I really don’t want to talk about Nate, so I shoot for a subject change. “All right, what’s your favorite horror movie?”
He blows through his lips. “I feel like I have to get this right because you’re alarmingly obsessed with creepy shit. I can’t say something lame likeScream 4.”
My lips turn up. “You can say whatever you want.”
He thinks. “Jaws.”
“Jawsisn’t a horror movie.”
“It’s about a man-eating shark who swallows a little kid playing at the beach. I was pretty fucking horrified when I first saw it.”
“It’s actually a thriller. Try again.”
“Fine,The Shining. I sneaked downstairs once when Dad was watching it, and it freaked me the hell out when that psycho said: ‘Johnny’s here!’”
He’s too adorable, but I have to laugh. “Um, the line’s actually, ‘Here’s Johnny!’”
Confusion clouds Dylan’s eyes. “You sure?”
I can’t stop smiling or staring at him as I nod.
“So, what’s your favorite horror movie?” he asks.
“I’d have to say the originalTexas Chainsaw Massacre. It’s disturbing as hell, so obviously, I adore it.”
He shakes his head but can’t seem to pull his eyes off me. “Biggest fear?”
“Ooh, tough one.” Losing what’s left of my family would rank number one, and a fear of failure is something I’ve always struggled with, but those topics seem a bit heavy, so I go with “Confined spaces. Being buried alive would be my worst nightmare. And you?”
“Clowns. I just saw Pennywise walk in, and now I might have to cut and run.”
I turn and catch a glimpse of the famous clown character with wild red hair lining up at the bar on the other side of the room.
I twist back to Dylan and grin. “Note to self: Dress as a clown next year for Halloween.”
“Not if I’m your date,” he retorts with a smirk.
A wave of nerves hits me over the fact that we both just referenced being here in twelve months—together. I swallow tightly, and Dylan clears his throat.
“Halloween-themed tattoo that you would get,” he says, introducing a new question to the mix.
“Hmm. Something like this one. I noticed it in your darkroom.”
I lean so close that our legs press together and lay my palm over his inner thigh, where I spotted a cool tattoo of a skull and roses while he was pounding into me. He widens his legs a touch, and my breath catches in my throat.
“Yeah, you liked that, did you?” he says, my fingers slipping a little closer to something that definitely isn’t a tattoo.
My heart pounds faster as Dylan’s eyes roam over my face, hovering on my lips, before his gaze flickers to something behind me. “Oh, fuck no.”
I twist to see the Pennywise clown heading straight for us like a scene from a horror movie, its plastic mask frozen into a toothy smile as it sidesteps people drinking and dancing.
