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While the dance is being held at the barn, it’s actually being thrown by the town’s appointed social committee. Because that’s what happens in this town, apparently. As if we need more reasons to be social with one another in a small town like Logan Creek. Skylar worked with the committee to organize it all, but other than getting our bartending and serving staff to move their shifts from the tasting room to the barn, there wasn’t much that Zach and I needed to do. Which means that we get to come as guests to an event at our own business.
Which is actually kind of nice.
But now that I’m seeing the whole fucking town is here and I’m dressed like this, I’m wishing I stuck to my original plan and stayed home.
“It’s not nothing,” Rachel says, drawing my attention back to her. “If you don’t want to do this, it’s fine. I understand. We can just go back to my place and watch a movie.”
I’m being such a selfish asshole.
The whole reason I’m doing this is because she wants to be here. Because every douchebag ex that’s ever come before me has refused to take her.
Because she deserves everything she wants and more.
Steeling myself for the impending harassment I know I’m about to get from my friends, I suck in a breath and get out of the truck before I lose my nerve.
I round the hood to the passenger side, helping Rachel down in her gown. It’s big and poofy, and I can’t wait to see it around her waist later.
She’s so fucking beautiful, even with her fake hair that feels like straw. I long to run my hands through her natural blonde strands, but I can wait.
I hold her hand as we walk through the gravel parking lot, making sure she doesn’t fall in her heels but also loving the feel of having her on my arm.
I stand tall and puff out my chest, exuding every ounce of confidence I’m faking as we step into the barn.
The lights are low, and the music is pumping through the speakers. People are laughing and drinking and thankfully no one has paid us any attention. Yet.
“Holy shit!” a familiar voice yells from behind us, making me stop in my tracks and brace myself.
Two minutes. I made it two minutes into the barn before someone noticed.
“Nice costume. I’m not sure if I should start singing ‘Tale As Old As Time,’ or ‘Every Rose Has Its Thorn,’” Travis laughs.
“Langston,” I growl, turning to face him.
I almost break out into a laugh because fuck, his costume is almost as bad as mine.
He’s dressed head to toe in green, including green tights that show off more than I ever wanted to see on my friend. He’s got a green cap with a red feather sticking out, and he has his hands on his hips, jutting out his chin as he poses.
“Great, isn’t it? Wait until you see hellcat. She’s the hottest little Tinkerbell.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “But first, we need to talk about your costume. This is epic, man.”
“Travis, have you seen…?” Brody walks up dressed in a red and white plaid shirt, jeans, and straw hat, stopping mid-sentence when he sees me. His face breaks out into an uncharacteristic grin and he lets out the loudest belly laugh, drawing the attention of everyone nearby.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter.
Rachel squeezes my elbow as she hangs onto me. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I never meant for…this.”
I look down at her and hate the tears in her eyes, knowing that I’m to blame for putting them there. She’s looking around the room at people who are now looking at us—well, me—with wide eyes. Dyllan dressed in all black with a cowboy hat and Zach dressed as Fred Flintstone walk up in their costumes with smiles on their faces.
“Nice costume, man,” Zach says, stifling a laugh.
Dyllan just holds his beer up to me in a cheers with a smirk on his face.
“Fuck you, asshole,” I say with more heat behind my words than I actually intend. I could have handled their jokes better if it wasn’t making my girl cry. “You’re dressed as a man boy, Zach is a caveman, Dyllan is some fucking Johnny Cash wannabe, and Brody. Did you even attempt to dress up? It’s fucking Halloween.”
Everyone becomes silent. Only the music from the speakers and chatter from those not immediately around us can be heard. I don’t break eye contact with Travis, the fucking instigator of it all.
“Hey, we’re just having fun,” Zach says, trying to lighten the mood.
Brody’s gaze travels to Rachel’s quickly before returning to mine. “Sorry. For the record, I’m a scarecrow.”
