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Kira plays some stupid game on her phone, completely oblivious to everything around us. Now that she has Rush on cock-anytime-I-want speed dial she’s not scoping out the place for a male body to spend the night with.
I sit back in the chair, impatiently waiting for the guys to grace us with their presence.
I spot them approaching from around the corner where the elevators are and my jaw drops.
“Oh my God.” If I wasn’t covered in five layers of makeup I’d rub my eyes. “What are you guys wearing?”
“What’s it look like?” Hollis asks, flicking the stuffed animal hedgehog Velcro-d to Cannon’s white t-shirt. In the back of his pocket is a set of drumsticks. I take in the sight of the rest of them. Fox—shirtless with a brown leather jacket and worn jeans riding low on his hips, a microphone clasped in one hand, a cigarette in the other. Rush wears a truly awful curly black wig with a white t-shirt, black leather jacket, and jeans.
Finally, I look at Hollis.
Backwards baseball cap, white tee, light blue shirt tossed over it with the sleeves rolled up, and khaki pants.
“You did not dress as my dad,” I groan.
He grins. “Yes, I did.”
“I’m going to kill you. Literally murder you in your sleep.”
Kira stands, holding up her phone. “I’m so posting this on Instagram. Smile. Or don’t. I don’t care.”
The guys lean in together and she snaps her picture.
“You won’t hurt me,” Hollis says. “You like me too much.”
I roll my eyes. “I wonder why.”
“You look hot as fuck—Poison Ivy, right?”
“You know your comics?” I raise a brow.
“A little bit. I used to be a bit of a nerd when I was younger—then I discovered girls.” He shrugs.
“I can’t believe you’re going to make me leave this hotel with you dressed as my dad. You do realize how creepy this is right?”
“You say creepy, I say hysterical.”
“I sho
uld ditch your ass,” I grumble.
“Aw, you’d never leave me hot stuff.” He throws his arm around my shoulders.
“I can’t believe I go all out with my costume and you dress as Joshua Hayes, my freaking father.”
“Hey, I put a lot of effort into this,” he defends, as the group of us heads outside.
“Mhmm, I’m sure it was extremely difficult to scrounge up all that.”
“It was, believe me, babe.”
“I need a drink,” I sigh.
“Isn’t that what a pub crawl is for?” he quips.
“Exactly.”
* * *
