by Kate Stewart
“Oh, you look like the Wicked Witch of the West,” she said with a laugh.
“So, what’s the problem?”
Bree shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t know, babe. Look in the mirror and see if you find yourself irresistibly sexy.”
“I’m a witch. Witches aren’t sexy,” I said slowly as if we were having a communication problem. Maybe I did need to get her hearing checked. I turned and studied the nose with a giant wart on the tip when it hit me. “Oh shit,” I said, realizing what she meant.
“Yeah, you don’t have to worry if tonight’s the big night. You could wear an adult diaper and be safe.”
“I wasn’t even thinking along those lines,” I said helplessly.
“I know, babe. But this is a date.”
My face was rapidly paling beneath the green mask. Nowhere in my mind had I thought to seduce my new boyfriend with my costume. I could have picked any number of things and made it sexy, but I saw the witch hat and thought it a no-brainer. The dick nose I’d glued to my face with a giant wart attached would ensure I remained celibate. Had I done it on purpose?
“He’s going to be here in twenty minutes! I don’t have enough makeup to redo my face!”
“Damn, girl,” she said, letting her laughter consume her. “It’s fine. Just get it off and we’ll go heavy on the eye makeup. Do you have something black and low cut in here?”
I heard the scrape of hangers on the rack as she went through my clothes while I tried to remove the nose. Tugging at it to no avail, I moved in closer to the mirror and saw a giant black hair hanging from the wart. Cursing my stupidity, even in my haste to find a last-minute costume, I began to panic when the nose wouldn’t budge.
“Oh shit, Bree! It won’t come off! I used too much adhesive!” The pain was becoming unbearable as I pulled and pulled on the nose, my eyes watering, and tears spilling over my cheeks. The side of the appendage was the only thing to give, but it still sat proudly erect on my face. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”
“What?” Bree said, emerging from my closet with a low cut black dress that showed tons of cleavage.
“I can’t find the remover. I think that’s why it was discounted. It was missing a tube!”
Bree began laughing hysterically as I went through every trash can in my bedroom.
“Nope, not in here,” I said in a panic as she doubled over. “You bitch, stop laughing and help me!”
“I will,” she said. “I will, swear to God, just give me a second.” She composed her face. “Okay,” she said, walking toward me before she broke down again.
“BREE!”
“Sorry,” she said, trying to keep a straight face.
“God, I hate you right now,” I said, my chin wobbling.
“Don’t freak, we’ve got this.”
Twenty minutes later, the doorbell sounded while Bree and I studied my reflection.
“This is insane. Just tell him I had a wardrobe malfunction and I’ll meet him there.”
“You look good,” Bree said, smiling, but I could tell she was still on the verge of losing it.
I narrowed my eyes. “I’ve got an eerily realistic looking witch face and my tits are hanging out!”
“But you have amazing tits,” she said. “You’re fine. Own it.”
“I don’t even want to borrow it. This is too weird. Just please get the door and tell him I’ll meet him there.”
“No way,” she said. “You look fine.” She fastened the cape around my neck and fluffed up the collar. “See?”
I tilted my head, my nose in my peripheral. A surprising amount of hope surfaced. “Just get the door.”
“Proud of you, hoochie.”
“Go,” I snapped, downing the rest of my wine. Taking a deep breath, I walked into my living room where Cameron and Bree chatted about her job.
“I’m scanning candy all night. Though I don’t see the point. Most parents toss their kid’s candy these days and replace it with stuff they buy from the store.” Her eyes connected with mine. “There’s our witchy slut.”
His eyes bulged when he caught sight of me.
“Screw it, I’m not going,” I said, turning on my heel.
“Hey, beautiful, where are you going?” Cameron’s light laughter echoed behind me as he caught up with me. “No, you don’t,” he said, turning me to face him. His eyes roamed over my costume. “You look perfect.”
“You sure?” I asked as Cameron stared at my monstrous nose. “I can go shower now, but the nose won’t come off.”
“Leave it, I’m impressed,” he said, scanning me. “You did this?”
“Right?” Bree spoke up behind me. “She nailed it. She looks awesome, sexy even,” Bree said before she bit her lips. I mouthed an “I hate you” as she covered her mouth with her hand. “Well, I’m outta here. Candy to scan,” she said. “One four three,” she shouted toward me before she shut the door.
“One four three, asshole!” I shouted back and heard her laugh on the other side.
“One four three. That’s I love you,” Cameron said behind me as I grabbed my purse.
“Yeah, it’s our thing.” I sighed. I was humiliated and hated that the night was starting out on that foot. Even behind my mask, Cameron noticed.
“Hey, hey,” Cameron said, forcing my eyes to his. “Why are you upset?”
“Because I look like a witch,” I answered, making zero sense.
“You look like a witch on Halloween going to a Halloween party,” he said, his perfect brows pressing together. “What’s the problem?”
“It’s not sexy,” I whispered, widening my eyes as I pulled my cape tighter around me.
“Okay, so you won’t be one of the thousands of women wearing a thong and fairy wings. Trust me, I’m good with that.”
“Really?”
He leaned in, attempting to kiss me, and had to tilt his head painfully to reach my lips. “Yeah, really, but I already hate this fucking nose.” He gave me as much of a kiss as he could before he pulled away and smiled.
“You look so handsome,” I said. Cameron was dressed in a black turtleneck, blazer, and slacks. “What are you?”
“Ted Bundy,” he answered with a wink.
“You have got to be kidding me!”
“I am. I’m a warlock,” he said with a chuckle as I rolled my eyes.
“Not funny.”
“It’s a little bit funny. And I thought serial killers were your heroes.”
I cringed at that. “They aren’t.”
“Then it’s a good thing I dressed as a warlock. I knew you would play witch tonight,” he said, ushering me down the stairs. “We should catch a cab. It’s too cold to walk.”
“Okay,” I said, taking him in, my little meltdown getting in the way of a more thorough appreciation when he’d arrived.
“Hey,” he said, catching my lingering gaze and giving me a knowing wink.
“Hey,” I said back.
My cape shifted a little, and his eyes did a slow perusal of my dress. “Definitely fucking gorgeous, ‘sexy even.’”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better. I totally geeked out with my costume.”
“You did, but I don’t mind talking to these beautiful tits all night.”
I slugged him with my purse as he pulled me to him with a curt laugh. “God, you’re something.”
“Something?”
“Yeah,” he said, biting his lip. He leaned in and flipped up the edge of my nose to kiss me.
I flinched. “Ouch.”
“Oh, man, this is really on there.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, deflated.
“I’ll work around it,” he promised before he gently took my lips.
“Mmm,” I whispered as he pulled away.
His eyes glittered over me as he shook his head and gave me the smile I met him with.
“What?”
“You.”
Hands clasped, my warlock led me into a black-lit pub and navigated us through a sea of brilliant wh
ite teeth. We were halfway to the bar when we heard Cameron’s name shouted.
I watched as the man sauntered up wearing a chemical lab suit and a shit-eating grin.
“Who the hell are you supposed to be?” Cameron asked as they clasped hands.
“Who do you think I am, bitch?” he replied with a panty-dropping smirk.
“Ah,” I said, giving him a nod as he held out his hand for me. “He’s Jessie from Breaking Bad.”
The man took my offered hand and kissed the back of it. “She’s far wiser than you,” he said to Cameron before smiling at me. “I’m Max.”
Max was handsome in his own right, a little shorter than Cameron, but was just as massively built. Where Cameron was dark, Max was a bit lighter in hair and eye color. His were a beautiful light brown.
“Max, nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Likewise, Abbie, love your costume. You went all out, didn’t you?” Cameron nudged his side, and Max looked over at him with a “What?”
“It’s fine,” I whisper-yelled to Cameron over the high-octane house music. “Thank you, Max.”
“Want some punch? It’s killer. Or maybe some meth?” He pulled two bags of blue candy from his pockets.
“Nice,” Cameron said, shaking his head with a grin. “And this man works for the government.”
“CIA,” Max said.
“Liar,” Cameron said with an eye roll.
“Can’t ever let me look good, can you, asshole?” Max groaned in jest.
“First of all, anyone who works for the CIA wouldn’t openly admit it,” Cameron said. “And there’s really nothing intelligent about you. I should know, I lived with you for six years. The smartest thing you ever did was light that cesspool you called a bed on fire.”
“That was an accident,” Max retorted.
“I rest my case,” Cameron said with a laugh.
They sparred like Bree and I did, and I felt comforted that Cameron had his own version of her.
Cameron leaned in and exchanged hushed words with him. Though I felt like I was intruding, he refused to let go of my hand. Max nodded and eyed me before he clapped Cameron on the shoulder. “Relax, man, it’s a party. I’ll get you two a drink. What are you supposed to be anyway?”
“A warlock,” Cameron said as if it were obvious—which it was anything but.
“You look like Professor Hinkle,” Max said as Cameron flipped him the bird.
“We both had Hinkle our first year at UChicago,” Max explained. “Hinkle had a rare form of narcolepsy. Rumor had it, whenever he laughed too hard, he knocked out. I spent my whole first year trying to make it happen.”
“You’re such an asshole. That’s probably why he failed you,” Cameron mused.
“He didn’t fail me. I got a better grade than you.”
“Calm down, I believe you.”
“You should, you were drunk that whole first year,” Max said.
Cameron looked my way with an explanation. “I was homesick. I was coping.”
“Yeah, coping. You coped all right,” Max said, chuckling. “Living in a sea of shredded co-ed thongs.”
With that, Cameron’s grin was wiped from his face, yet my smile emerged.
“Really?” I arched a brow as Cameron glared at Max, who cleared his throat.
“Yep, this guy was a momma’s boy through and through. I thought he was going to cry when she left him at the dorm our first day.” He put his hand on Cameron’s shoulder. “But I loved that woman. Emma was one of a kind.”
Unspoken words passed between them, and I knew then Max was my new favorite person. Anyone could read between the lines that underneath the jokes and playful ridicule lay respect and genuine affection.
“I thought you were going to get us drinks,” Cameron said.
“I’m on it.” Max wandered off through the crowd while Cameron managed to grab us an empty two-seater booth at the corner of the dance floor. He sat down and tugged me into his lap.
“So,” he said, tracing the hem of my neckline with his finger before flicking his eyes to mine. Do you have a curfew tonight?”
“Nope.” Leaning in, I took a whiff of his cologne, which was incredible, a mix of all things man.
“Good to know,” he said as he circled my wrist with his fingers. A low pulse began to beat as I leaned into him. His eyes zeroed in on my cleavage. “This dress is cruel,” he murmured. “Would it be totally inappropriate if I motorboated you?”
“Yes,” I said, running my hands through the hair at the back of his neck. “I like Max,” I said, nodding my head toward him just as he looked our way and grinned. “What does he do for the government?”
“He’s a contractor, like you.”
“He’s probably having more fun than I am at the moment. I can’t wait to start my new job. The one I have now is becoming a pain in the ass, and I have a love/hate relationship with the staff I’m working with.”
“It’s a good thing you’re moving on then.”
“My eyes are up here, Coach.”
Cameron leaned in, attempting to make good on his motorboat threat, and I pushed his face away.
“What is it about boobs?”
“Do you want an intelligent Freud type of answer or the truth as I know it?”
“Is there an intelligent response, Professor Hinkle?”
He gave me a side eye. “I knew it was trouble putting you two together.”
I glanced at Max. “I told you I’d get the dirt. Player, huh?”
Cameron winced.
“I plead the fifth,” he said, looking up at me through thick black lashes. “Those are the rules.”
I wrinkled my four-inch nose, and he pulled me closer. “Is it bothering you?”
“No. Of course not. I always assumed it, honestly.”
He frowned. “And why is that?”
“The way you look. And a man doesn’t get as confident as you are by not having a collection of sexcapades.”
He flashed me his pearly whites. “Sexcapades?”
“Were you the frat guy?”
“Maybe,” he said as he turned us around and leaned in. “Abbie, it was a long time ago.”
“I know. I’m cool with it. Just curious.”
He tried to read me for jealousy that wasn’t there, but I told him anyway.
“I’m not really the jealous type. I had a moment or two when I was younger, but I grew out of it. I think once you reach a certain age, you realize how pointless it is.”
“Well, if it helps my case, I stopped thinking with my dick a long, long time ago.”
“I’m sure. But I’m guessing when you were a player, you were still a gentleman.”
“I was,” he said with the twitch of his lips.
“Let me guess, you mopped up their tears with their ripped thongs after the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech before you made them breakfast.”
“I make good waffles,” he assured with a wry grin.
“I love waffles,” I said with a sigh.
It was clear we were both in the mood for waffles.
I stared down at him as he tugged off my pointy hat and ran his hands through my hair. His attentive fingers slid through my strands as he simultaneously rubbed my back.
“You’re really good at that.”
“At what?”
“Making me feel good.”
“Abbie, you are not a thong girl.”
“I know, and I’m proud of that fact. But I can’t say I haven’t been there. You know, chances are you were just a phase to them too.”
Surprise covered his features. “You’re taking up for them?”
“Absolutely. Maybe they used you for a night. We aren’t all shrinking violets. I’m willing to bet when most of them pulled on that thong, they weren’t thinking about their Sunday school lessons. They knew exactly what they were doing. It brought you to your knees, didn’t it?”
He pulled me tighter to him. “Yeah, it did.”
“It’s called the Kitchen Sink,” Max yelled. “Fuck if I know. After the first glass, it goes down like water.”
“You don’t say.” Cameron looked at me pointedly. “Don’t drink that.”
“Loosen the reins, Coach. We aren’t driving.” I took the punch from his hand and swore I exhaled fire.
“Whoa,” I said with wide eyes.
“Maybe just sip it?”
I nodded.
Max was oblivious as he scanned the crowd. “I asked Rachel to come. I’m going to look for her. She’s supposed to be dressed as a little devil.”
“She won’t show. You’ve been trying to get her for a year,” Cameron said.
“Oh, ye of little faith,” Max said, leaning in to make sure I heard him. “Don’t listen to him. She loves me.”
“I have no doubt,” I said honestly.
Cameron and Max had the watchful eye and attention of every long legged, big breasted woman in the bar. I caught a couple of them staring and smiled when I noticed a few of them had on thong leotards and wings. I squeezed Cameron a little tighter to me, and though he didn’t know why, he returned the affection and squeezed back. Jealous type or not, he didn’t want that, and I fell a little more for him because of it.
Max leaned in with a menacing expression. “I should warn you now, when this man drinks, he tends to love everyone.”
“Are you alluding to the time he almost kissed a man?” I asked.
Max’s jaw dropped an inch. “He told you?” he yelled over to Cameron. “You told her?!”
“Yep,” Cameron said as he looked at me with a mix of pride and amusement.
“Fuck, man, you threatened my life to keep a lid on that.” Max turned to me. “Oh, he must like you.”
“I’m not as wicked as I look.” Cameron’s fingers pressed into my hip.
“Cute,” Max said. “I’m off. If you see a pint-sized devil with an amazing ass, lasso her over this way if you don’t mind.”
“Will do,” Cameron and I both said in unison.
Max wandered off, and I questioned Cameron. “Why won’t she show?”