Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“Oh, cool, these holey tights will really do the trick. I won’t be cold at all now,” I deadpan.
“They’ll help more than you think.” Sutton laughs, running her hands down the sequins of her black iridescent dress. It fits like a corset around the waist and flares out to look like a mermaid tail at the bottom. She looks gorgeous with her dark hair and sultry makeup with rhinestones and shiny scales somehow pasted to her cheeks and forehead.
“Why do you get to be all sexy Gothic mermaid and I’m stuck in an actual children’s costume?”
“Because I love Halloween and I planned this shit for months. Now shut up and finish your stitches,” she says, gesturing to my half-finished rag doll makeup. “You’re hot.”
If there’s one girly thing about me, it’s my ability to do makeup like a pro. I spent a lot of my teen years practicing. More makeup meant more attention, and attention meant more tips. Then later, Eric liked to parade me around in front of his rich friends and colleagues, and of course, I had to look the part. Having an affair was one thing. Having an affair with a hood rat from Oakland? Unacceptable.
I put the finishing touches on the stitches next to the corners of my lips, my forehead, and on my neck before painting my lips in a red lip stain. I complete the look with heavy mascara and a smoky eye, giving myself an appraising look in the mirror. Not bad. I look intentionally sexy, like a slutty nurse or cop costume—though, I’m not sure that’s necessarily a good thing.
“What did you end up doing after I left Briar’s thing the other night?” I ask, suddenly remembering. When Sutton asked me to hang out, the last person I expected to see was Dare. This small town really lives up to the stereotype.
“I ended up passing out on her couch.” She shrugs.
“Well, that’s anticlimactic,” I tease.
“Sorry I don’t have more excited news. If you looked up my dress right now, I’m pretty sure you’d find cobwebs.”
We both laugh, and Sutton grabs her small, black clutch.
“Do you have a jacket I could borrow?” I only have my pullover hoodie and wearing that defeats the purpose of dressing up.
“Nope. You’re not covering all that up,” Sutton says, wiggling a finger up and down in front of my chest. “Plus, you’ll be warm. We’ll be inside.”
“Fine,” I grumble, then snatch my hoodie off her bedpost and tuck it under my arm, just in case. Being comfortable trumps looking good any day.
“If you put that on, I will burn it,” Sutton singsongs as we make our way outside.
Tonight should be interesting.
When we pull up to the bar, the entire parking lot is packed, and when we walk through the doors, I don’t even recognize the place. The outside was completely dark, no lights or Open sign. Even the tattoo shop next door had its windows shuttered in black. But inside, everything is bathed in a purple glow from black lights. Some song I don’t recognize blares from the speakers that I didn’t even know this place had.
“I thought this was a work party?” I yell over the music.
“It is!” Sutton yells back, bringing her mouth closer to my ear. “It’s everyone from here, Bad Intentions, some people from the casino, and the coffee shop. It’s sort of like a party crawl, except we can’t use the casino for obvious reasons, and the coffee shop is pretty small, so they all pretty much bounce between next door and here!”
I nod, letting her know I heard her. It’s one of the biggest party days of the year, so of course they wouldn’t shut down the casino for Halloween.
“Let’s get a drink!” Sutton grabs my hand, pulling me toward the bar. She’s right. I don’t need my hoodie. All these bodies have made the place almost uncomfortably warm.
Jake greets us with a flick of his chin as he’s filling up a glass with draft beer, and then he does a double take when he realizes it’s me. He looks me up and down before shaking it away. Sutton notices it, too, because she bumps her hip with mine, and I roll my eyes.
“What can I get you, ladies?”
“I’ll just have a Bud Light draft,” I shout.
“She means a lemon drop! Four of them! Plus, a Jack and Coke.”
“No.” I laugh. “Just beer.”
“Fine, but you’re taking shots with me, too.”
Jake’s eyes dart between the two of us, waiting for us to come to an agreement. I give him a shrug, and then a second later, he’s sliding a glass of beer and a Jack and Coke across the bar top before turning to make Sutton’s lemon drops.
“I don’t do shots.” Not anymore. I could drink every person in this place under the table without batting an eye when it comes to beer, but liquor is another story.