by Neve Wilder
“Are those the only two options? Does he get that a lot? Ass kickers and abductors?”
He laughed, his expression sharpening like he knew something I didn’t. “Nah. Mostly girls who see him out playing.”
“Not surprising.” I nodded absently.
“He’s in the back, though. I could get him, or…” He trailed off as I shook my head and pulled one of the flyers for my Halloween party from my back pocket.
“Just give him this. Wait—” I interrupted as he reached out for the flyer. “Got a pen?”
“Sure.” He glanced around, then held up his finger and trotted off. I followed him partway, looking toward the beaded curtain to the next room that he’d indicated, so tempted to go back there, shove Rufus up against a wall, and finish what we’d started. But I wanted to keep up this game we were playing. It was the most excitement I’d had in months, sadly. Owen returned with a marker, and I flattened the flyer over the side of a display case to write, then handed it and the marker back to him and said, “Gotta run.”
He still looked bewildered as I turned and walked out.
3
Rufus
I shoved aside the bead curtain that led to the back room of Grim’s, shaking the long strands off as I moved through with a big tub of records that needed to be sorted and put out on the floor. Dan’s latest haul from an estate sale had a lot of great scores, and I was only a third of the way through cataloguing them. I caught a flash of black as the old bells on the front door chimed, and my senses prickled as I watched the back of the guy cutting through the parking lot. I knew that hair. I glimpsed the sunglasses in profile and had half a mind to go after him.
“He left something for you,” Owen said as I stood there with narrowed eyes, considering.
“Yeah?” I cocked my head, still fixated on Quinn’s back as he disappeared into the driver’s side of a sleek silver car. Fitting. After setting the tub I was carrying down, I strode toward the checkout counter and the neon orange rectangle Owen was tapping.
“He was kinda weird.”
“You’re telling me.” I snatched the paper from his hands and examined it.
“Cute, though. Wonder what color his eyes are?”
“I’m not convinced he has eyes. Or a soul,” I mumbled, studying the silly bat and cobweb clipart on the flyer. A Halloween party. I rolled my eyes. I didn’t do the whole Halloween thing, didn’t like to get dressed up. But my reaction to the marker scrawl at the bottom told me I’d be considering it. Special request, he’d written. Clever. I started to get hot again just thinking about that alleyway kiss.
* * *
Dan showed up at closing time. I’d already sent Owen home, had finished sorting through the estate haul, and had an itemized list typed up.
“Ru,” Dan greeted me and tipped me a nod as he entered, then locked the front door behind him before coming alongside the register where I was getting all the sales slips and deposits for the day ready to hand off to him.
“Playing tonight?” he asked.
“Nope. I’m beat.” I nudged the list toward him, and he scanned it quickly with a murmur of thanks.
“You’ve been going hard.” His eyes narrowed like he was considering pulling out the father act on me. He did that on occasion.
“Is there any other way?”
He gave me a look. “Yeah, you could just sign with one of those shiny labels interested in you.”
“Still hard, and then someone owns my ass.”
“Only for an album or two.”
I grunted. I hadn’t been swayed yet, and I wasn’t about to be now. I’d do things in my own time, my own way.
Dan ran a hand along the scruff on his jaw, still studying me. He had lines on his face, but somehow they only made him more attractive, especially when he grinned, as he did then, eyes lighting up. “So damn stubborn.”
“Yep. Ask my mama and she’ll tell you all about it.”
“I have. And she did.” He ruffled my hair affectionately, then turned his attention to the cash register. “Anyone interesting come in?” He always asked when he wasn’t there during the day and loved hearing about celebrities dropping by, the latest gossip, what people bought or were searching for. Dan prided himself on being able to find any scrap of music, no matter how rare, no matter how few copies had been released—even things that hadn’t ever been officially released at all.
I shrugged. “Nah. I got invited to a Halloween party, though.”
Dan chuckled at my scowl. “I’m surprised someone even bothered. They must not know you well.”
“Hardly at all. Damn he’s good-looking, though.” I sunk against the counter, thinking about Quinn’s dimple, his mouth, that hard cock pressing against me.
“Oh, a he, is it now? Anyone I know?”
“Probably not. Guy named Quinn. He came in when I was playing the other night at Howie’s. We had this really weird—” How did I describe what we’d had? “—encounter. He never took his sunglasses off.”
“Ahh, Shades.” He quirked a brow at me. “I know him.”
“How do you know everyone in this fucking city? It’s scary.”
“Long, sordid past.” He grinned. “I have a painting of his, though.”
“He’s an artist?” That wasn’t something I’d have guessed at all. My fascination with the guy expanded further. “Any good?”
“Oh yeah, it’s awesome.” Dan pulled his phone out of his back pocket and scrolled through it for a second before frowning and tucking it away. “Guess I don’t have a pic, but it takes up a whole wall of my office at home. Big canvas, all black and white. Guy can’t see color.”
“He’s color-blind?”
“No. He can’t see any color and has incredibly sensitive eyes. Photophobia or some such. I can’t remember.”
“Oh. I thought he was just really afraid of light. Or a vampire, both of which sent up small red flags.” I pinched my thumb and forefinger together to demonstrate, though clearly neither of those possibilities had had any dampening effect on my dick’s opinion of Quinn.
Dan snorted.
Quinn made a lot more sense to me now, and I felt an undercurrent sympathy for him. I couldn’t even begin to imagine only seeing the world in black and white, much less having to walk around in shades all the time.
“Ru,” Dan prompted me.
“What?”
“The sales slips?”
“Oh yeah.” I handed them over and then propped my elbows on the counter, leaning forward over it and peering out into the parking lot like Quinn might reappear. “Have you been to one of his parties?”
“Mmm.” He nodded, distracted as he paged through the slips. “He can throw a pretty good rager. I went last year.”
I tried imagining Dan in costume. Indiana Jones maybe? Old West cowboy? He’d be able to pull off both with ease. “What’d you dress as?”
“Chewbacca.”
I cracked up, picturing him in a Chewbacca costume. It worked, though. He had the height and stature. He made some Chewbacca sounds, and I laughed harder, shaking my head.
Dan glanced up at me. “You should go. He does a fantastic haunted house.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t want to dress up. And I should do a gig that night anyway. High earning potential.”
“But you want to go.”
I peered at his profile sidelong as he licked his middle finger and continued flicking through receipts. I scoffed. “How do you know?”
He hitched one shoulder up, and I caught the edge of his smile as it formed. “Boy, you’ve been working here for five years. I know your ins and outs.”
“Yeahhhh. We’ll see.”
After he finished with the receipts, he set them aside and opened the cash drawer, beginning to count it out. “Uh-huh. Well, have fun. Now get out of here.”
When I got back to my apartment, I took care of the ache thoughts of Quinn had left me with, then pulled out the stupid flyer he’d given me, wondering where the hell
I could find a costume this late in the game.
4
Quinn
He wasn’t going to come. It was nearing eleven, and there’d been no sign of Ru. I tried to focus on mentally deriding him for being a coward instead of acknowledging the cool spread of disappointment through me. Which was a very mature response, I was aware.
“How about you stop watching the door for five minutes and actually enjoy your party?” Marco pushed a Solo cup of spiked punch in my hand and tapped the bottom until I tipped it against my lips and took a swallow.
“I’m enjoying myself,” I defended after wiping my lips on my ascot or cravat or whatever the hell it was called. “I’m ridiculously hot, though.” I considered abandoning the heavy frock coat, but I’d gone to so much effort to get the costume right. To no purpose, apparently, if Ru didn’t show up.
“You are indeed.” Marco winked, or I thought he did. He might have just been blinking. He was dressed as a mummy and had one eye concealed behind a thick gauze wrapping.
I made a face at him, and he cackled. Then his eyes got big, and he nudged my elbow. “Ohhhhh, look at her!”
I followed his sightline to a girl wearing only gold body paint and a flowing white-blonde wig. “Lady Godiva?” I guessed.
“Well, duh, but she’s gorgeous.”
“Eh.” I shrugged. She was gorgeous, but I wasn’t in the mood for a lithe build and perky tits. I wanted Ru’s wide shoulders, those masculine lines, and more of those sultry lips I’d previewed in the alleyway.
Marco shook his head at me in annoyance. “Really? Come on. You can’t be that hung up on a guy you hardly know.”
“I’m not hung up on him. It’s called mutual attraction and—” I was absolutely hung up on him, regardless of the amount of time I’d spent with him. “I’m—oh, there he is!”
I left Marco rolling his eyes and broke through clusters of partygoers toward Ru in the entryway where he’d stopped and was looking around as if he was considering leaving already. His brows were drawn together, his mouth set in a grimace, and I paused a few feet away him, taking in his costume while he remained unaware of my existence. His muscular arms protruded in sleek perfection from a nightstand he’d pulled the side panels from. Atop his head, which poked through a hole cut in the top, rested a fringed lampshade that shivered when he turned to skim the crowd again, his frown deepening to my delight; he could sit in front of a bunch of drunken hooligans and banter with them on any given night, and yet a Halloween party seemed to have unnerved him. He looked so miserable that I almost laughed as I approached, but then his gaze found mine and he broke into a big, self-conscious grin that nearly stole the words from my mouth. It was some kind of smile. No wonder people flocked to Grim’s after his shows. The brightness of it beckoned like a full moon on a clear night.
“You’re a… one nightstand?” I asked, canting my head at him. I imagined my amusement was evident.
“At worst. Typically it’s more along the lines of a one-and-a-half-night stand.” His smile ticked a notch wider, his former wariness evaporating in an instant.
“How does that work?”
“Well, you factor in a delicious bacon-and-egg breakfast and a very long, very erotic shower, and that’ll put you well into the afternoon. Therefore, one-and-a-half.”
“And if someone doesn’t like bacon and eggs?”
“Then I’m out the door before dawn, because that’s just wrong.”
The way he playfully narrowed his eyes at me told me he was joking, but I couldn’t help replying, “That works out perfectly, since I have to be in my coffin by sunup.” I widened my eyes at him, and he reached out to brush his fingers over the cravat around my neck.
“I was wondering what you’d dress up as. I’m impressed.” He let his hand fall away from the fabric to adjust the lampshade again.
“So you recognize it, then?”
“Yep, that’s the best version, too, in my opinion. Because… Gary Oldman.”
“Agreed.” I’d studied the Dracula movie stills for hours trying to get the costume right. Even had it down to the tinted glasses, which were pulling double duty shading my sensitive eyes, so it made me happy to get a return on the investment in the form of Ru’s humored expression as he looked me up and down.
I linked my elbow through his and started us toward the punch cauldron before he could entertain the idea of leaving again. “Ready for some witches’ brew, or would you rather stand around some more scowling at the prospect of fun?”
“I wasn’t scowling. I was assessing the potential for fun. Will this witches’ brew make me forget the wood digging into my hip? I didn’t plan out this costume very well.”
“It might. But don’t overdo it—it’s strong, and I’ve never had to scrape a drunk nightstand from the floor before. Sounds like it’d be difficult.” I was proud of myself for my restraint, because what I’d considered saying was that if he stuck around long enough, there’d be more than wood digging in his hip.
“I can hang.” He laughed, accepting the cup of punch I gave him. Trying to actually drink it, however, proved unwieldy by all appearances. He managed after a little clever maneuvering while I watched him over the top of my cup.
“What?” he asked, catching my look between a long swallow.
“I’m glad you came.” There was no guile in the statement, just pure, unfiltered sincerity on my part, especially after I’d been convinced he wouldn’t show.
“I haven’t, yet. Part of the reason I’m here. You seem to have put my libido on a leash and enjoy dragging it flailing around after you.”
I blinked. Guess I shouldn’t have bothered with the restraint earlier. “Likewise. What’s the other part of the reason?”
“Dunno yet. Just a hunch that told me I should rig up a stupid costume and be here.” When he shrugged, the whole nightstand moved on his shoulders and the ridiculous fringe from the lampshade trembled and swayed just above his eyebrows. I wanted to laugh again because it was all so silly, but despite the mirth dancing in his eyes, there was something else there, too. More heated, more serious. And I thought I understood it, because I felt it, also. There was a vibe between us that was both idiosyncratic and magnetic, and if I’d believed in any sort of spooky Halloween hoodoo, I’d have blamed it on that. But maybe it was just him. And that I liked him, against my own prejudice, and wanted to know him better.
“Who’s this?” I asked, changing the subject as I prodded at a picture frame that appeared to be glued to the top of the nightstand next to his head. Within it was a photo of Rufus with his arms wrapped around a giant black lab.
“Lillian. My biggest fan. She’s having a sleepover with my sister tonight.” He laughed and started to rake a hand through his hair, upsetting the lampshade in the process. I reached and caught it just before it fell, and centered it back atop the crown of his head as his eyes met mine.
“Dog lover and musician. Shit, you’re trouble.” Not to mention sexy as hell. Add in a mixture of sarcasm and good humor and I was doomed. He ticked all the boxes, even the ones I didn’t want ticked.
“Don’t forget breakfast maker, excellent shower companion, and a painfully thorough knowledge of nineties pop.”
I was about a rock skip from blowing off my own party and dragging him somewhere quieter when Marco shoved into the tiny enclave we’d created for ourselves. “They need you in the haunted house,” he said, then looked Ru up and down before breaking into laughter. “Oh my God, that’s hilarious. Bless your heart, it must be uncomfortable as hell.”
“Very much so,” Ru replied solemnly. I made introductions between them and then left them both behind to go man the haunted house, feeling Ru’s eyes on me as I departed. He’d better still be there when I returned. Otherwise, I was going to hunt him down so we could finish what we’d started. Though I was beginning to wonder if one night would be enough.
5
Rufus
A half hour after Quinn had gone to man the haunted house,
he still hadn’t reappeared. Marco had bounced off to pour more booze into the cauldron, leaving me to fend for myself in a sea of mostly strangers.
Dan hadn’t been kidding about the party; Quinn really did go all out. It was hard to tell someone actually lived here. The loft was completely decked and draped in black gauze, silky spiderwebs, and black plastic sheeting, the only lighting provided by a few strands of twinkle lights, a faux bonfire, and a plethora of LED candles covering every surface. It was easily the work of a week, maybe more. Not to mention the process of dismantling it afterward. I could hear screams coming from the haunted house portion, which was accessed via a doorway draped in more of that black plastic sheeting, but I hadn’t ventured through yet and was still trying to get my bearings. I hovered next to the big cauldron in the middle of the room, where dry-ice smoke poured over the insanely strong punch I’d already helped myself to a healthy second serving of.
“Can I set my drink on you for a sec?” The voice rose to be heard over the music, screams, and chatter, and I turned to find the smiling, elfin face of Amanda Faulks, another acquaintance in the industry. I was so relieved to see someone else I knew that I nodded immediately. She was at least the tenth person to ask so far, which was probably what I deserved for this dumbass costume. “Sure, why not? Don’t leave a ring, though,” I teased, sticking my tongue out at her. She toasted her cup of punch to mine, instead.
“This is great.” She poked at the picture frame and alarm clock I’d cemented to the top of the cheap nightstand I’d found at Goodwill and modified so I could wear it. It seemed to grow heavier by the minute, and I was in the late stages of regretting my choice, moving toward grumpy acceptance. As she prodded the corner of the picture frame, her hand knocked against the lampshade I was wearing, sending it askew for the fifty billionth time. I was about to throw the fucker into the fake pyre I’d glimpsed earlier.
