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After two hours of strolling around we end up at a restaurant a block up from the hotel. The back deck and patio area is packed with people dressed in all kinds of costumes. Zombies, Marvel characters, there’s even an Indiana Jones—but who’s getting the most attention of all? The dickwads dressed as Willow Creek. All night people have walked up, immediately knowing who they’re dressed as and remarking on the creativity of it, then asking for a picture.
Hollis keeps flashing me a smug smile every time it happens.
I, in turn, roll my eyes every time.
What’s worse is I know my dad and the other guys will get a kick out of this when they hear about it.
I don’t know what’s worse—Hollis gloating, or the inevitable gloating coming from my dad.
Kira and I push our way through the crowd, finding a table large enough to claim. Since most people are standing, there are empty tables—and I’m starving, so if I don’t eat soon I’m about to go super villain up in this bitch.
Menus are already on the table and I pick one up. I’ve eaten here a million times, but I look anyway.
The guys eventually manage to make it through the crowd—Rush now walking around with the hedgehog in his wig. I honestly want to glue the stuffed animal to one of their faces simply for irritating the shit out of me.
“We can’t go anywhere with you guys,” I grumble.
“Someone sounds jealous of our brilliant costume idea,” Fox sing-songs.
I narrow my eyes as he sits down on the opposite side of the table. “Yeah, I’m very jealous you all dressed as my dad and uncles. Bravo.”
Hollis takes a seat beside me and smacks a kiss against my cheek. I frown and pretend to rub it away, to which he laughs. “Well, someone, my girlfriend might I add, wouldn’t tell me what she was dressing as so it’s not like I could match you or anything.”
“You could definitely rock a red wig and heels,” Fox chortles.
Hollis grunts. “I was thinking Batman or something—but I could definitely rock heels if I wanted to.”
I throw my head back and groan. “Remind me again why I like you guys.”
“Because we’re awesome,” Fox says.
“And hot,” Rush chimes in.
“Because I have a big dick,” Hollis adds.
Cannon, as per usual, keeps his mouth shut. He merely reaches over and picks the hedgehog carefully out of Rush’s wig and puts it back on his shoulder.
Cannon is the type of person who thinks if he doesn’t have anything worthwhile to say then there’s no point in adding to the conversation. I admire him for it, but I also want to punch him in the face because it can be highly annoying when he ends up going an entire hour not saying a word. I’m convinced he’s not entirely human.
A waitress manages to make it through the crowd and we all order drinks—we’ve already had several tonight, but it’s Halloween and I want to let loose. Yeah, I’ll have a killer hangover in the morning, but whatever.
Hollis snatches my menu from me.
“Hey,” I cry, making a grab for it.
He holds it out of my reach. “Don’t you already know what you want?”
“Well, yes, but I was holding that. You don’t snatch things from people, it’s rude.”
He playfully bites my earlobe and I swat at him.
“Stop being a pest because you’re perturbed by my costume.”
“It’s not even a costume!” I cry. “It’s clothes.”
“I’m pretty sure everyone who has stopped us for photos disagrees with you.”
I frown.
