3:AM Kisses

by Addison Moore

  The thought ricochets in my mind on a loop as I throw on my apron at the Black Bear Saloon. It’s Halloween, and to say the freaks come out at night is putting it mildly. Tonight there’s a freaks and Greeks invasion like no other. Girls in slut-ware, boys in…well, most of them are dressed as themselves.

  Bryson winks at me from behind the counter, and my heart thumps as if begging me to jump him right here on the bar. He’s got his five o’clock shadow giving him that sexier-than-all-holy-hell look, and his jaw keeps redefining itself as he gawks over at me in my bunny slash waitress uniform. Honestly, with the catcalls I got just walking through the door, I should seriously consider wearing this cottontail every night of the year.

  Bryson, however, skipped the faux animal parts and decided to go rogue as a “bartender,” an amply endowed bartender sporting some seriously hot tats, but, nevertheless, he and all his immeasurably long male parts are mine. I give a private smile over to him as he speeds this way.

  “Nice ears.” He swoops in for a kiss.

  “You should see my tail,” I counter.

  “I plan on inspecting it in detail later tonight.” He gives a naughty growl as his hands round over the back of my shorts. I’ve kept the summer wardrobe as a part of my work uniform because, let’s face it, I get twice as many tips dressed as Jeanie Waters.

  “Hey.” Holt barks over at us in his vampire attire. His face is covered with white pancake makeup while a trail of gelatinous blood drips down his chin. I’m not sure how he managed to do it, but he actually has fangs. “This is a family show. Keep your hands to yourselves.” He gives a sly wink while conducting some major mixology behind the bar. “I’m teasing. Fornicate freely. In fact, I’d pay to see it. It’s probably good for business.” He holds up an electric blue drink for our approval.

  “Nice,” I say, inspecting the glowing concoction.

  “You’re gorgeous.” Bryson leans in, and the sweet scent of his cologne intoxicates me. “I can’t wait to get you alone tonight. I’m going to bite that tail off with my teeth.”

  “Mmm...” I give a kiss that pulls at his lips. “And I can’t wait to get me some of those 3 a.m. kisses.” I don’t dare tell him I’ve got my haunted meet and greet with Aubree, the keeper of the Alpha Chi crypt. I’ve already arranged to borrow Laney’s car for the midnight rendezvous. I made Laney swear to not to breathe a word of this to anyone. The last thing I want to do is blow my chances at acquiring a room at the scholastic version of the Ritz. Besides, I’m sure whatever stupid Satanic ritual Aubree dreamed up won’t take up an entire hour, and, then, I’ll finally have a place of my own, free from overprotective brothers, not to mention the romping roommate I’ll be leaving behind at Prescott Hall, although a small part of me will miss Thing One and Thing Two, perversely entertaining as they were.

  Bryson turns to head back to the bar, and I land a brisk tap right over his rock hard ass.

  “Meow,” I purr over at him.

  “A bunny that purrs like a kitten.” He touches a finger to my long fuzzy ear. “Sounds like the best of both species.”

  “I’m just trying to lure you into the field so I can have my way with you.” I run my finger down his chest nice and slow.

  “Consider me lured.” He tucks a quick kiss into my neck before heading to the bar.

  I find Laney on the floor sporting the same cotton tail and ears which doesn’t surprise me since we bought them together at the student store. I went over to her dorm earlier, and we drew cute little whiskers on each other and dotted our noses with blush, and she mentioned it was more action than she’s had in almost a year.

  “Guess who’s seated at five o’ clock?” She gives a quick glance past my shoulder.

  “Five o’ clock?” I’m the worst person to try and orient spatial relations by way of a timepiece. I glance over and spot a quasi-familiar dirty blonde dressed as a slutty farm girl with nine inch FM’s and a dress three sizes too small. Her full lips siren out with bright red lipstick, and her nipples peer from her frilly bra every three seconds as she chortles herself into a laugh-gasm. Her suitor catches my attention, and I harden my gaze over at the boy seated across from her wearing a rather inglorious black cape. I recognize him instantly as the boy Cole tried to hook me up with. “Oh, it’s that guy from my music class, Luke something. And why is this minute hand worthy information?”

  “No, braniac—not him—the girl.”

  “The tramp trying to get her field plowed by the magician? Luke better get ready to let the ox out of the barn.” The skank leans into him, and her boobs gyrate like bouncing balls. “Looks like the farmer’s daughter is ready for that roll in the hay. You think we’ll need security?”

  “That’s no costume.” Laney slips a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “That’s Jeanie Waters.”

  “That’s Jeanie Waters?” I lean in to inspect her with the cosmetics-based disaster smeared over her features, the boob enhancing costume that’s about to burst at the seams. God, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her face. She was all hair and limbs, moans, lips, and penises coming out of every orifice. Her boobs wiggle again, and oh! It takes everything in me not to give a friendly wave over to Thing One and Thing Two. Here they were desperately trying to get my attention all along, and I was stupidly ignoring them.

  Jeanie glances over at me and gives a sharp look.

  “Shit.” I spin abruptly. “Should I say something?” I clutch onto Laney and resist the urge to shake her. “Like—hello, I’m your invisible roommate! Would you please stop fucking over every free surface in our dorm room?”

  Laney’s eyes flutter. “It’s subtle. I like that.” She speeds me over to their table and drops me off with all the enthusiasm of a kid on the first day of kindergarten.

  “Hi.” I give a little wave at the two of them, but my attention gravitates to Thing One who has cleverly raised an eye at me and is bouncing away, happy to see me.

  Luke peruses his menu. “Cheese chips, please.”

  “Oh” —I scramble to pull out my notepad—“right. Cheese chips. And for you?” I examine Jeanie in this close proximity. She looks like your average harmless skank, nice even, like she might say sorry after she gave you VD.

  “Same.” She waves me off and leans heavily into Luke as Thing One and Thing Two campaign shamelessly for his attention—by the way, Luke totally looks as if he’s enjoying it. Figures. Typical perv. And Cole thought this guy was an upgrade from Bryson? As if.

  “Excuse me?” Jeanie cuts me a look that spells die bitch. “Do you have a staring problem?”

  “Oh, no. Actually—”

  “Just get our food would you?” Her ruby red lips snarl up at me as if warning me to keep my girl parts from her potential sheet-shaking session.

  Luke looks up at me, his eyes expanding with embarrassment.

  “Um…I was going to introduce myself,” I say, hesitantly as Thing One and Thing Two cheer me on with their incessant quivers. “I’m Baya Brighton.” I annunciate carefully in an effort to talk over the music blaring from the speakers.

  Jeanie leans back and glares at me as if I’ve just firmly lodged a knife in her horizontal hula plans for the evening.

  “Well, we really don’t. Give. A. Shit.” She smacks Luke on the shoulder as she breaks out in a cackle.

  “You know”—Luke shakes his head in disgust—“cancel my order, Baya.” He stands and leans in. “Sorry about that.” Luke takes off, leaving a horny as hell and just as pissed Jeanie Waters in his wake.

  “Thanks a fucking lot.” She stands toe to toe with me as if I might actually entertain the idea of a bar brawl with her and her quivering tits—and, for a moment, I do.

  “Looks like the magician pulled a disappearing act.” My lips give a wicked curl, and I don’t stop them. “Anyway, I was just trying to tell you that I’m your roommate.”

  “At Prescott?” Her forehead breaks out in three narrow lines of confusion.

  “Yes,” I nod. “At Prescott.”


  Jeanie reaches to the next table and snatches the electric blue concoction Holt was working on earlier and thrusts it in my face. A small circle of gasps break out around us followed by a random round of applause while I blink and choke on the volatile brew.

  “You bitch.” I hold my arms out as the blue sugared goop drips down my fingers.

  “That’s what you get for reporting me to the housing authority.” Thing One and Thing Two peek out from their frilly, lacy storehouse, surprised by this turn of events, because, clearly, I’ve offended them. “That was my second strike, by the way. One more and I’m out on my ass, and I’ll be freaking homeless at Whitney Briggs.” She stalks off for the exit.

  “Join the club,” I shout after her. “And I didn’t say anything”—it comes out weak—“my brother did.”

  “Look at you.” Laney appears and starts mopping up my chest with a dishrag. “Making new friends already.” She dabs at my cleavage before making a face. “I think she died your skin blue. Oh, what the hell. It’s Halloween. You could be a Smurf.”

  “Smurf.” I sniff into the idea. “And she’s the one worried about being homeless?” I shake my head incredulously as visions of her fornicating behind trashcans out in Founders Square blink through my mind. “Yeah, well, if I don’t get into Alpha Chi, I’ll be the one who’s freaking homeless at Whitney Briggs.” Well, not quite. I glance over at Bryson who seems to have thankfully missed the exchange due to the fact an entire gaggle of gorgeous girls have amassed around him. And sadly, tonight, we’ll have to go into covert ops if we plan on shaking the sheets ourselves. Just the thought of getting it on with my brother in the next room is enough to kill my lady boner.

  Crap.

  I’m pretty sure whatever the pearl wearing, evening gown toting Aubree Vincent has planned for me to do this evening, I will. I’ll leap through a thousand hoops of fire if I have to.

  Like it or not, I’m Aubree’s little bitch tonight.

  Happy fucking Halloween.

  The moon hangs high over Hollow Brook like a silver scale as I drive Laney’s sedan to “the bridge” just shy of midnight.

  “Where the hell is the bridge, anyway?” I whisper. Laney gave me weird directions, but once she mentioned it was just past the Witch’s Cauldron, I figured I could find it easily enough. She mentioned it was where Alpha Chi does all their bridging ceremonies. She also said she was secretly rooting for me not to get in—that too many oysters would be harmed if I did, per the mandatory pearl necklaces. She suggested I fashion Aubree’s demon strand into a noose and hang her from the highest bough, what with no witnesses around and all, but I balked at the idea. Aubree’s bitchy behavior is a small price to pay when crystal chandeliers and my own swanky sorority suite hang in the bounds. Plus, I don’t mind pearls. It’s not like they’re going to force me to wear them twenty-four seven. I’m just thrilled I’ll be living in a mini-mansion, far, far away from Jeanie and her never-ending bump and grind.

  The Witch’s Cauldron comes up on my right, and visions of Bryson and his magic fingers working me into a sexual fervor take over my senses. God. I roll my head from side to side. I can practically feel his lips branding themselves over my neck, his hard abs pushed tight against my body—that amazing feeling I get when he’s high up inside me—well, other than the burning and the ripping.

  I let out a breath as I park on the ridge behind the boulders. A dull smile plays on my lips. This is our spot. I can see the vapors emitting from the hot spring, and I’d like to think it’s steaming up from the memory of the two of us writhing over one another in the tiny heated well.

  I get out of the car and stare at the dusty trail. Laney said to follow it up the stream about five minutes, and that when I see Aubree’s ugly face, I’ll know I made it.

  I take off on the dusty path lit up with the powder-soft glow of the moon and trek for what feels like miles in my patent leather FM’s. It hadn’t even occurred to me to bring a pair of flip-flops for the trip—or a sweater since it’s cold enough to freeze the nipples right off my body.

  The flicker of a candle glows up ahead, and I make out a suspension bridge that spans the length of the stream at its widest point. The water flows pretty wild, and every now again a wave hits the rocks and sprays me with the icy wash. The haze is markedly thicker up here. The scent of night jasmine lights up my senses, and I take a deep breath just to trap the sweet fragrance in my lungs.

  I spot a flame of blonde hair in the center of the bridge and wave.

  The moon shines over a rusted out sign that reads, Danger! Keep off.

  Figures. I bet wicked sorority sisters like Aubree are always looking to up the casket potential in any given situation, after all this is rush. Clearly a hazing of the acrobatic variety is about to take place.

  I step onto the slatted bridge, and the entire length of it oscillates wildly. God, I hate these kinds of bridges. Once, when we were kids, we went on one at an amusement park, and Cole and a bunch of his bully friends waited until I got to the middle before jumping up and down on both ends. Assholes—assholes in training to be exact.

  I grab ahold of the rope railing on the left and note it’s missing on the right side. One good bounce and I’m guaranteed an ice bath. Great. I’ll get to wash off the sticky blue liquid Jeanie christened me with by way of throwing my clothes over the rocks with my body still in them.

  “Be careful,” Aubree sings it like a taunt. “Take it slow. We have all night.”

  “Maybe you do,” I whisper under my breath. But I’ve got some seriously hot kisses to collect in about three hours. If I’m lucky, and with Bryson I usually am, he’ll have me purring until the sun comes up. I’m up for some delicious tricks and treats tonight, and not one of them concerns Aubree Vincent.

  By some small miracle, I manage to hoof my way over, and not until I’m inches from her bare feet do I realize that I, too, could have taken off my shoes.

  “Here I am.” I hold out a hand victoriously.

  “So you are.” She smirks. “Did you come alone?”

  “Just me, myself, and I.” I wanted to say, no Aubree. I have Bryson. Coming alone is what you do. But I don’t think she’d find it funny.

  “Good.” She darts a suspicious eye out to the black forest behind me.

  “Did you come alone?” Somehow I find her need to trek out to the middle of nowhere suspicious and more than slightly creepy in a chainsaw massacre kind of way.

  “Of course—” She bites down on her lip. “I didn’t. I’ve got half a dozen sisters in the woods behind me. I need them to witness your pledge since you’ll soon be a member of the most sought after sorority on the East Coast.”

  “Really?” My heart races. “So I’m in?”

  “You’re in.” Her lips dig into her cheek just this side of a smile. “Repeat these words loud and clear. At Alpha Chi there is no me, there’s just my sisters—the ultimate we.”

  God, that’s stupid. I repeat the chant at the top of my lungs like a private in the army, shouting it into the face of her overly zealous drill sergeant.

  “Good. Now all you have to do is partake of the bonding libation.” Aubree gleams a black smile as she plucks a small cup no bigger than a toothpaste cap from her fanny pack.

  Fanny pack, huh? I would have expected something a little more chic from the queen of mean with a passion for uptight fashion, but, nonetheless, a luxury suite at Casa We-Chi waits for me at the end of this rainbow in the dark.

  I peer into the tiny cup, and a gelatinous quiver stares back at me.

  “Jell-O shots?” I balk at the midnight offering, but really I shouldn’t. It’s low-key compared to half the crap I would have easily agreed to. She clearly has no clue how much power she wields. She could have had me streaking across campus with leeches strategically placed over my body if she wanted.

  “That’s the last step, and you’re in.” The smile slides off her face as if that weren’t the intent of the invitation after all. “Heard you had an exciting wee
kend with the Prescott Hall book club.” Her lips curl in a snarl.

  “Actually, I was with my boyfriend.” I really don’t give a shit if she knows. After all, Alpha Pee is all about honesty, right?

  Her eyes harden over mine. “It must be nice to have finally nailed down the ever elusive Bryson Edwards.”

  Had I mentioned to her that I was seeing Bryson? Something about the way she says his name has me on edge.

  “Let’s get moving.” She livens with a tiny smile. “This is the final initiation that every sister has to undergo.” She pushes the tiny nightcap toward me, and I try to look impressed.

  “So that’s it? I down it, and I’m in? It’s not loaded with blood is it?” Not that I’m opposed to drinking human plasma at midnight when my own private luxury suite is on the line. Plus, I’ll never have to apologize to Thing One and Thing Two for ruining their chances with Luke Carter. In fact, I’ll never have to look at Jeanie Waters’ obnoxiously large nipples again.

  “No, you nitwit, there’s no blood in it.” Her lips twitch. “Go ahead and knock it back. I’ve got places to be tonight.”

  I lick my lips a moment. Then it hits me. This is a Jell-O shot. “There’s no alcohol in this, right?” I ask stupidly. Crap. I haven’t had a sip of anything even remotely fermented after my father died, not a moment before either. Cole never felt that strongly about it to initiate some self-imposed alcohol ban, then again, I was younger when it happened. I was daddy’s special girl.

  “Of course, not. Do you think I’d waste some premium Grey Goose on a loser like you? Just swallow the thing so we can both get off this damn bridge.”

  “Did you just call me a loser?” I’d throw the cup in her face like Jeanie did to me earlier, but it wouldn’t have the same effect.

  “No I called you a boozer.” She rolls her eyes. “Look, do you want the spot in Alpha Chi or not?”

  “I guess.” I run my tongue over the concoction, and the happy taste of artificially flavored strawberries greets me—not that I’d know what vodka tastes like.