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Holt’s cheeks turned a darker grey, which was… weird. I shouldn’t have been able to see his blush through the body paint.
“Larkin,” he said again, but Larkin was still staring intently down at his phone like he was trying to mind-meld with it.
“Larkin,” Holt barked, which made him finally look up.
“Yeah?”
“Can you go and check that everything’s ready? You know, that all the guests are… seated?” He was giving him an intense look as he said it.
Larkin made a face. “What, you want me to force people away from the bar to take their seats?”
Holt made a strangled noise in his throat. “No, Larkin, just make sure they’re seated. That they’re not still in the middle of… sitting.”
Larkin stared at him, nonplussed. “I don’t get it.”
“Fucking…” Holt strode forward and grabbed Larkin’s elbow to drag him to the door, throwing a breezy, “One sec!” over his shoulder to me.
When he returned, smoothing down his suit jacket, Larkin wasn’t with him. “Sorry about that. All the spectators are, uh… cosplayers too, and they like to get into their costumes once they’re already here. It’ll be… uh, more impressive if they’re all already in them and stuff. Not… in the middle of changing.”
“They change out on the main floor?”
Holt waved a hand. “Well, you know, it’s a… community. Anyway. Why don’t we take a seat while we wait?”
“Sure.” I followed him over to the love seat, flushing when I saw an ice cream stain on the fabric. “Shit, that was probably me. Sorry.”
“It was everywhere,” Holt said dismissively, unbuttoning his suit jacket before sitting down. “The place was a mess when I got down here this morning. I’d spilled the last of the rum all over the floor, which was probably a blessing in disguise, to be honest.”
I cringed. “Yeah. Fuck, we were really drunk.”
“Yeah.” There was a pause. “Do you… remember much?”
“Um.” I scrubbed my cheek and looked at him, admitting, “Yeah. It’s all been coming back to me during the day.”
“Me too.” He winced, picking at a button on the armrest, then sheepishly asked, “Do you remember the, uh, Tokyo story?”
The one where his pants had split and a big group of Japanese businessmen had seen his butthole? “Yeah.”
His head flopped back onto the couch. “Fuck my life.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” I said quickly. “We both told each other embarrassing stuff last night.”
“Yeah, but my stuff is way more embarrassing than yours.”
“That’s only because you’re… I don’t know, interesting and have actually done stuff.” I flushed. “I’m just boring.”
He shook his head. “You’re not boring, Taylor.”
Suddenly, I was remembering him saying the same thing last night. Saying I was a “total catch,” and that I had a fantastic ass, and a nice mouth, and pretty eyes. Saying that if we hadn’t been wasted, he would’ve hit on me.
Saying that he’d “totally bang” me, even though he’d never had sex with a human before.
My belly squirmed with pleasure, but I tried not to read into it. Clearly, he’d been drunkenly rambling because of the “human” quip. He’d just… been in his cosplay character. Who maybe got really hot for sad office workers with boring lives.
Before I could think of any kind of response that didn’t make me sound like a loser, Larkin was walking back into the room.
“Everything’s ready.”
“Great.” Holt looked nervous, for some reason, as he clapped his hands on his knees and stood. “So everyone’s… in costume?” he asked while rebuttoning his suit jacket.
