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Micah winks at me. “See, Angel, no need to stay inside tonight. You need a distraction.”
I scan the area, looking for Taylor. He’s standing in our kitchen, pouring himself a drink with a mischievous smirk sliding on his face as he raises an eyebrow.
“I’m not out-numbered this time. No point in fighting it, Eves. You’re going out.”
Out of the corner of my eye, Micah slowly keeps moving towards me. And even though I know it’s super childish, and I’ll probably never live this down, I leap from the sofa and run towards my bedroom, slamming the door behind me.
There’s no shortage of laughter coming down the hall as my head thumps against the door.
I’m still in the fucking twilight zone.
The door pushes open, and I stumble forward, involuntarily allowing whoever is on the other side to step into my room.
“Easy there. It’s just me.” Micah chuckles and closes the door, trapping me in the room to suffocate on coconut and cinnamon and all things Micah.
Time seems to stop as I watch in blatant shock while the asshole struts his naked ass over to my bed and has the audacity to lie down.
“Hmm… This is nice,” he says, rubbing his back against my comforter. “What is this? Egyptian or Italian?”
My jaw clenches almost to the point of pain. “Get your crusty, naked ass off my bed, and get the hell out of my room,” I growl. “Or so help me, I will stab you where you lay.”
Rather than listen to me, he deliberately stretches his arms and folds his hands behind his head. The corners of his luscious lips turn up slightly. “I can assure you, Angel, my ass is not crusty.”
I roll my eyes to avoid staring at his leaf, and time picks up speed again. Celeste and Taylor make an entrance before I can decide whether to stab him or go find the Glock in this room and shoot him—so I do neither.
Taylor is holding several shopping bags in his hands, and I watch as he tosses one to Micah. “If you wanna get out of here any time soon, let them get ready.”
Micah looks in the bag with disappointment and then back to Taylor. “Ah, man, what’s this?”
“It’s your Halloween costume.”
“But I’m already wearing my costume for the night.”
Taylor chuckles. “I’ve already told you. You’re never gonna get her out with a damn leaf, bro. Trust me.”
“But I went through all the trouble of finding the right color cock sock to match my skin perfectly,” Micah mock pleads, and Taylor responds.
“I told you to go with #c58c85. The one you have doesn’t quite match.”
My eyes bounce back and forth between the two of them, my mouth hanging open incredulously. What the fuck is happening right now?
“Do you guys need a moment?” I finally muster, releasing my initial shock.
Taylor chuckles. “Don’t worry, Eves, I’m not competing for his—”
“Do not finish that statement,” I warn.
He smiles and hands a bag to Celeste and then tosses the last one to me.
“What the hell is this?” I question.
He gives me a sly grin, but doesn’t answer.
Celeste pulls out a teal bodycon mini dress with light green trim, lime green scarf, and a long red wig, while I pull out a black plaid skirt, a white off-the-shoulder sweater, thigh-high socks, and brown bob wig. “And what exactly are we supposed to be?”
He runs his hand through his hair and lowers his eyes. “You’re Velma, and she’s Daphne. I didn’t think you’d like the whole orange/red color scheme, so I got you black. And she has those teal stilettos that she loves so…”
He trails off, seemingly insecure all of a sudden now that he’s said it aloud. To his relief, he doesn’t have to finish his thought before Micah jumps back in.
