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“Oh my God, I can’t believe he did it.”
“Why do none of the men on dating apps look like that?”
“Those baked goods certainly didn’t go to his hips, did they?”
“That’s… that’s just magnificent. I think I need to sit down.”
Standing up from behind my table, I lean over it to see what the group of women in front of my tent is freaking out over, even though I already know. I volunteered him for this stupid job. He’s a man of his word, even if he’s forced to do something he would never choose to do on his own in a million years. My heart is beating faster, and my hands get sweaty when I rest them on my table to get a better view, as a crowd of clapping and shouting tourists suddenly part, and Ford walks through the center of them—wearing a male cheerleading uniform that looks like it’s two sizes too small for him.
“Good God,” I whisper, my mouth suddenly so dry it feels like my tongue is stuck to the roof of it.
The red-and-white polyester top Ford is wearing with the Bobcat High School mascot on it from the movie looks like one of those swim shirts lifeguards wear. Like it’s been painted on him, clinging to every thick cut of muscle in his chest and molding to every ab in his six-pack, straining the fabric to its very limits. I have no earthly idea how he even got that thing on his body without ripping it in half, and the image of him wrestling into it is the only thing making me want to laugh right now.
He didn’t even need to tear the sleeves to look like poor Bob, whose hacked-off penis was only the beginning of his night of terror. His huge biceps have ripped right through the capped sleeves, leaving jagged fabric shooting up to his shoulders. The red polyester pants he has on aren’t faring any better, and I have a feeling if he even tries to sit down, his tree-trunk thighs will tear right through them just like his biceps did to the top.
All day long, I’ve practiced the conversation I wanted to have with Ford when I saw him tonight. I planned on telling him it would be for the best if we went back to the way things were. Explain to him this is all just too much, and our October friendship is too important for us to mess it up and confuse things with sex. But as soon as I see him again, all those plans vanish in an instant.
That man’s body was pinning mine to a wall last night.
His fingers were inside me.
I watch his mouth move as he talks to a tourist who asks him for a selfie, and all I hear in my head are all the dirty things that mouth growled in my ear.
I don’t even need to close my eyes and I can still feel him there, hear him there,wanthim there.
Like he can tell I’m thinking about him, Ford’s head suddenly jerks over in my direction. As soon as our eyes meet, my heart starts beating faster. His eyes sweep over me slowly, but this is different from his usual glance to make sure I’m all in one piece. This is the glance of a man who’s remembering what he did to my body last night and how loudly I screamed his name.
The ripped boyfriend jeans and vintageThe Babysitter’s Last Halloweenlong-sleeved T-shirt I’m wearing suddenly make me feel like I’m walking through the desert in a snowsuit with a fur coat over it, melting under the scorching sun.
“If she was able to land that with her subpar pumpkin pie, I’m going to throw myself off the closest bridge,” Annie Alleman complains.
“You know what, Annie?” I snap, “Maybe I landed him because I’m a catch. I’ve never baked him a damn thing.”
Jesus, shut up, Sidney! You didn’t land anything!
“You’ve never even made him cookies?” Kenny whispers in shock, a piece of kettle corn falling out of his wide-open mouth. “EvenI’vemade him cookies.”
My God, I really am a monster.
No one else says a word after my outburst; they all just stare at me, unmoving, like they’re waiting for the punchline.
“Get away from my tent.”
The women immediately scurry away like cockroaches when you turn the lights on. Kenny flops down into the seat next to me that Callie vacated when she went in search of french fries, while my eyes automatically find their way back to Ford. My skin breaks out in goose bumps that he hasn’t stopped staring at me, even while he’s surrounded by tourists trying to talk to him. I can’t tell if the pissed-off expression on his face is just his everyday Ford look, or because of how badly I ruined things last night, or because of all the people currently forcing him to take a selfie.
Regardless of how shitty I’m feeling and how nervous I am that I not only screwed up whatever was happening between us but that I might have also ruined our friendship in the process, I’m still drawn to him, just like always. I still want to be close to him, and breathe in the smell of his cologne, and feel safe and cared for. I still want to do whatever I can to take that grumpy look off his face and get a smile out of him. I find my feet walking me out from around the table to go to him without even thinking about it.
“Kenny, watch my booth,” I say distractedly over my shoulder, not wanting to take my eyes off Ford, suddenly afraid he’s going to disappear right in front of me, like he does every November 1st.
“No, come on, Sid! You know I hate these creepy doll heads; they freak me out. Don’t leave me here alone with them!”
Ford started walking toward me at the same time I started moving, and we meet in the middle, right at the back of the seating area.
I don’t know if I want to hug him, kiss him, yell at him, ask him what the hell he’s doing to me, or find a pair of scissors to help him get out of that uniform and get him naked as fast as possible. I just want to be near him so I can feel like I can breathe again.
Which makes absolutely no sense, since he’s the one making me feel like I’m suffocating, right?
“Did you miss me, babe?”
