“So, where are you? Are you going to Rumors tonight?” Calix asks.
“Nah, I was there twice this week, that’s enough for me.” I don’t mention I’m avoiding the witches. Something about them and Theius’s reaction to them kind of freaked me out. “You?”
“I would have if you were. Got any other plans, want to meet up?” Calix inquires, and I smile, feeling a little more confident. I guess I’m still not the only one who’s a little eager.
“Your place?” I suggest, since I’m not sure I want him here. If he knows where I live, he could stop by anytime. And I’m just looking for a hookup, right?
“I don’t really have my own place yet. I just got back into town a few nights ago. Yours?” he adds, sounding hopeful.
“Well…” I hedge, biting my lip.
“I’m not a serial killer,” Calix offers, like it might sweeten the deal.
I chuckle. “Not really what I’m worried about.”
“You got a man?” he questions boldly.
“No, but if I did?” I counter.
Calix doesn’t respond for a few seconds. I hear him breathing down the line, so I know he hasn’t hung up. “He could watch, but I’m not into men.”
“Not a deal breaker then?” My voice goes a little soft. Few human men like to share with another man—a woman, sure, but not another man.
“No, not for you,” Calix answers. “Plus, I don’t mind an audience.”
“How do you feel about ghosts? My house is haunted.” It’s an untruth that isn’t really a lie. I came up with it years ago, in case I ever wanted to invite anyone over, but I never did. Still, it would explain the noises, and—hell’s bells—if he saw one of my visitors, I could convince him that it was just a run of the mill ghost. They even have TV shows about the damn things.
Calix chuckles. “When should I come?”
“As often as possible,” I reply without thinking.
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you soon, bye.”
“Wait!” I shout before he can hang up. “Don’t you need my address?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry. I wasn’t thinking,” Calix drawls slowly.
“I’m kind of out of the way,” I warn him.
“Do you mind just texting it to me?” he asks, as I hear a door slam closed.
“Sure, I can do that. To the same number?”
“Yeah, this is my cell. Rocky doesn’t understand personal boundaries. He’s the one who answered before.”
“If I ever run into a Rocky, I might punch him just in case it’s him.” I retain the unusual name for the future, because I’m totally not lying.
“Don’t do that. He’ll just think it’s foreplay.” I can hear the smile in Calix’s voice as a loud engine purrs to life. “Text me the address, and I’ll see you soon,” he promises, and the line goes dead.
“Eager beaver.” I look at the phone then hit the little ‘i’ next to Calix’s name, and different options for facetime and messaging pops up. I hesitate for just a second before pulling up the keypad and typing my address into the message. If he makes a pest of himself, I’ll scare his ass away.
What’s the worst that could happen?
* * *
Smoothingmy hand over my hair, I look into the full-length mirror on my bedroom wall. After a quick shower, I put on a pair of yoga pants and a slouchy, boat-neck t-shirt that leaves my shoulder exposed. I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard, and we both know what he’s coming here for. Finally, I unpin my hair, letting it fall down my back. I didn’t bother washing it, so I wouldn’t have to deal with it being wet.
Making my way downstairs, I turn on a few lights throughout the house. I usually don’t bother, preferring the candlelight, but that might be a bit much for Calix. I snicker a little, thinking it might help with the haunted house feel.
