by Michelle Lee
Do I want an out?
I shake my head. "No, I can do this. I want to do this. I'm not backing out," I honestly admit, squashing the old me once and for all. I’m not that girl anymore, and I’m not going to let her make a reappearance after all these years and ruin tonight.
"Okay, bitches, let's do this," I command, my voice oozing with confidence as I grip the handrail and make my way up the stairs to the other waiting contestants.
Geoffrey and Patrick stare at each other, then at me, mouths gaping open.
"Well, doesn't one of you have to get your pretty little ass on stage and get this party started?" I question, picking up the microphone.
Geoffrey and Patrick both shake their heads in total disbelief.
"Oooo, I love confident Hot Jane. She is on fire." Patrick squeals, fanning himself, as Geoffrey reaches for the microphone.
"Okay, ladies, let's get this contest started, shall we?" Geoffrey saunters up the stairs, his bee-stinger-butt bouncing as he does.
I think Patrick is drooling, his eyes fixed on Geoffrey's ass. And I swear I hear him mumble, "Deliciously edible."
Geoffrey commands the attention of the crowd while Patrick tries to contain himself beside him. "Are you all eager for some more fun?" The guests cheer and a couple of shouts of "Hell, yes!" can be heard over the clapping, hoot and hollering.
"Well, there are some very beautiful delicious ladies waiting to show you what it takes to be the Queen of Halloween. And I must say some of their costumes are to die for…" Geoffrey fans himself. "Hopefully they make a few of them in my size."
"Ooo, they better, Pookie; I so want to play doctor, and you can be my nurse." Patrick grins like the cat that's about to eat the canary, pointing to…
Holy shit!
I so didn't see Nina standing there. The crowd goes nuts, and of course, I hear Brett's booming voice above all others. "That's my fuckhot woman!"
"Shall we get started?" Geoffrey asks the crowd, his arm in Vanna White manner, motioning to the line of contestants.
The crowd quickly responds. Patrick takes the microphone. "I think some of you might be in need of some medical attention. I know Doctor Make-me-feel-oh-so-fucking-good is in the crowd…" Patrick winks at Brett. I notice Brett become less enthusiastic and cower.
"But, I think we need his nurse to take our temperature first," Patrick finishes.
"Orally or rectally?" Geoffrey questions with a quirked eyebrow.
"I'm always up for a little anal probing," Patrick shamelessly responds.
Nina steps forward, drawing all eyes away from the lovebirds, and takes Geoffrey's waiting hand. He escorts her around the small stage and gives her a little spin once they are next to Patrick again. The crowd goes nuts—deafening nuts—especially Brett. Nina gets back in line, and Patrick continues to introduce each contestant, while Geoffrey presents them to the hungry guests. After a French maid, a fairy, and a vampire, Patrick starts to introduce me.
"Our next contestant will leave you hot and sweaty in the jungle. She's just sizzling…it's our very own, Hot Jane."
I take a deep breath and quickly scan the crowd. After what seems like an eternity, I find Evan right where I left him and Griffin. His smile overtakes his features, and he begins to step forward, pushing his way through the party guests—pushing his way closer to the stage—pushing his way closer to me. He mouths, "I've got you." I can't help but smile back, and my hand easily slips into Geoffrey's. I take my turn around the stage, all the while feeling my confidence grow; the crowd's cheering, feeding it. I manage not to trip and find myself standing back in line. I breathe an utter sigh of relief. Next, the last few contestants take the stage. While the last girl has her turn, I see Evan smiling, and he winks at me.
I mouth, "Thank you."
He mouths, "Anytime."
My gaze drifts from Evan, and my eyes instantly find Griffin he's beaming. My heart skips a beat. He mouths, "You did great." I smile and nod my thanks, turning my attention back to Patrick as the last girl gets back in line.
"Whew, is it hot in here or is it just me?" Geoffrey fans himself.
"Oh, it's all you, hot stuff." Patrick nuzzles Geoffrey's neck.
A few chuckles radiate from the party-goers. They get lost in the moment and come very close to making out in front of everyone. I guess the proverbial light bulb goes off, because, before things get too X-rated, they stop.
"Doctor Delicious, where are you?" Patrick scans the crowd and quickly, like he has GPS on his ass, finds Brett. "Oh, there you are. I might need mouth to mouth before the night is over. Geffy, you always leave me breathless."
I notice Brett slowly turning from Doctor Delicious to a shrinking violet. I can't help but laugh, and I hear Nina laugh right along with me.
"Okay, let's end the suspense, shall we? The Queen of Halloween is…drum roll please…Nurse Nina."
The place erupts into cheers for Nina. All I can think is thank God it's her and not me. Nina graciously accepts her cash prize, adding the sash and crown to her costume. She plays to the crowd as she takes her victory lap. Brett has made his way to the front of the stage, clapping and cheering louder than anyone. He reaches up, helping Nina get off the stage and right into his arms. Brett simply stares at her, in complete awe and with an intense love. I watch him bring her tighter into his arms, lean in, and kiss her with such reference. My heart swells and aches at the same time. Brett and Nina have found and redefined that elusive four-letter word. They are among the rare and lucky few. I let out a deep breath, make my way down the stairs, and find Griffin waiting for me.
His smile widens as I walk closer to him. "You were amazing, Zoey."
"Thanks." My eyes never leave his.
Griffin reaches out his hand to me. I take it without hesitation. A warming sensation spreads out from the contact. Butterflies attack my stomach.
"Just amazing," he reiterates.
Before I can respond, he pulls me into his arms, his face inching closer and closer. As if he is a magnet, I find myself inching closer as well until his lips tenderly touch mine. He starts to pull away, but I stop him, my hands finding their place around his neck. I seek out his lips this time, and our kiss deepens—sweetly, tenderly. I am the first to break the kiss—oxygen was kind of needed. For some odd reason, his kiss makes me I feel like I just won first prize, not Nina.
Griffin rests his forehead against mine. "Come dance with me."
I don't answer with words; instead, I lace my fingers in his and pull him away from the stage and toward the dance floor. The closer we get, the vibration of the music starts to pulsate through my body, and I can't help but react to it. "Don't Wanna to Go Home" thumps through the speakers; its steady dance rhythm finding its way into my core. I start to sway my hips, arms stretched above my head, losing myself. I suddenly feel a pair of hands grasp my hips—Griffin. A smile spreads across my lips, and I lean my back against his chest, the rise and fall of it moving me. We continue to move, in sync—two bodies becoming one. The song slowly fades and changes to something slower, something I don't recognize. Griffin turns me so I am facing him, his left hand finding its way to the small of my back, his right intertwining with mine. He pulls me closer, and I rest my head against his chest. The butterflies return for round two. We slowly sway to the song, and I easily get lost in the sensation of being wrapped in his arms. I feel…safe. The song seems to fade into the background, as do the other dancing couples around us. It's just me and Griffin—it's just us, and no one else.
"May I cut in?" a familiar voice asks from behind me.
I straighten up and notice Griffin's eyes lose their shine. "Sure."
Griffin releases me, and my body wants to protest. I'm about to protest. Griffin leans in and whispers in my ear, "I'll wait for you by the bar, okay?" His lips brush my cheek. Griffin turns to Evan. The two stare intently at each other—hazel versus blue—it's almost as if they're playing "Who's gonna flinch first." Neither one of them wants to be the first to back down
it seems. Griffin nods and Evan returns it with one of his own—silent words exchanged between them.
Men.
I smile at Griffin, and I then watch him get lost in a sea of people. I turn, and I am staring into a pair of pleading hazel eyes.
Yeah, you should be pleading and begging for my forgiveness for interrupting, you jackass.
"Shall we?" Evan smirks, taking my hand in his, while his other hand finds the small of my back. He starts leading, and all I can do is follow—Evan is a wonderful dancer.
No he's not. You're pissed at him, remember?
"Relax, Zoey, I'll have you back with Mr. Gladiator soon enough." Evan's voice drips with sarcasm.
I squeeze his hand as hard as I can, hoping that it hurts like hell.
"Zoey, please—you know you can't hurt me. Will you just stop and enjoy this dance with me?"
"I don't want to enjoy this dance with you. I was enjoying dancing with Griffin before you so rudely interrupted." I try to keep the venom out of my voice.
"I was just doing what I promised."
"And what would that be—preventing Zoey from having a good time?" I sarcastically inquire.
"No. Despite what you think, I am just looking out for my best friend. You know, looking out for her best interest, making sure she doesn't do anything stupid, making sure no one hurts her in any shape or form, especially when that form is dressed like a gladiator."
I can't help but feel…guilty. Evan is just looking out for me just like he's always done. But, I can't help but still feel a little resentment. I mean, I am a grown-ass woman, and he knows nothing about Griffin.
"I know you're being my 'bodyguard,' and I really appreciate it. But, you didn't need to go all caveman. Griffin's harmless."
"No man is harmless, Zoey. Especially tonight, especially when you're wearing this."
His eyes roam over me, and I feel a burning sensation, and it's not just my cheeks.
"Look, I just want you to be happy, and I don't want to see you get hurt," he adds.
I roll my eyes.
"I know I can be a pain in the ass, but I am very protective of you, Zoey, you know that. I always have been and I always will be—nothing will ever change that."
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, carefully thinking about what he’s just said and what am I about to say. "I know. It's just that, sometimes, I think you see me as that awkward teenage girl who needed your protection and guidance more than anything. But, now, Evan, if you haven't noticed, I'm not a teenager anymore, and I left that awkwardness behind me. I'm a big girl now, wearing my big girl pants. I can take care of myself. But…I appreciate that you still look after me, just ease up a little, okay?" I tell him, my eyes staring into his.
Evan nods. "Okay, I'll try. I'm not making any promises, but I'll try. So, you like Mr. Gladiator?"
"Mr. Gladiator has a name…it's Griffin, and yes I do. He's been nothing but nice to me since we met."
And it was the truth. Griffin has been a perfect gentleman the entire time; mostly. That kiss we shared wasn’t really inappropriate and even when we were dancing, his hands never became inappropriate. I feel my lips curl into a small smile at the thought. The song changes to a fast beat, and Evan releases me.
"Well, thanks for the dance, Miss Richards." Evan bows.
"Anytime, Mr. Harris." I curtsy.
I suddenly feel like I'm at the homecoming dance my junior year…
"Zoey, I'm so sorry. I didn't know," Erica apologizes.
"It's okay I'm fine," I get out, my eyes following as Liam walks across the gym with his arm draped over Morgan’s shoulder.
My heart sinks.
Of course he would bring her to the dance—Morgan Anderson was a sure thing, after all.
"Zoey, we can go if you want," Erica suggests, concern written all over her face.
"No, Erica, I'll be okay. You go dance, Brandon's waiting."
Erica turns and nods to Brandon and then turns back to me.
"Erica, seriously—go have fun with Brandon, I'll be fine. Please just go," I plead, holding back the tears.
"Just one dance, and I'll be right back," she promises and then turns to go dance with Brandon.
A heavy weight sits on my chest when I notice not far from Erica and Brandon, Liam is dancing with Morgan. If they got any closer, they would be one person. I hold back the droplets of moisture pooling at the corners of my eyes, and it push them back, not wanting them to spill forth down my cheeks. Liam and I had been dating exclusively for about two months. And after the first month, he started pushing for more. He wanted to have sex, and I just wasn't ready. He kept pushing and pushing, and I finally gave in. But when it came time to "do it," I still couldn't. He yelled at me and called me a cocktease and frigid and damaged. A couple of days later, he broke up with me. Now seeing him with Morgan Anderson, the school slut, made perfect sense; he was going to get what he wanted—what he couldn't get from me.
My heart was breaking all over again, just watching them.
"Would you like to dance?" a familiar voice asks out of nowhere.
I look up, and I am staring into understanding hazel eyes—Evan. He reaches his hand out to me, and after some hesitation, I finally put my hand in his.
"What about Chelsea? Won't she…won't she be mad?"
"Now why would she be mad? I'm just going to have one dance with a beautiful girl who just happens to be my best friend." He quirks an eyebrow.
I nod. Evan leads me to the dance floor and spins me around. I can't help but giggle.
"That's better. I don't like to see you upset, Zoey. He's a dickhead. He doesn't know what he had when he had it," Evan tries to reassure me.
I know he's just being nice. I know he's just being my friend. My crush on him lingers just below the surface, but I keep it squashed. I don't want to ruin the best friendship I've ever had with stupid girly feelings. Evan leads and I of course I follow. He's a perfect dance partner. He's just perfect. I hope Chelsea realizes just how lucky she is. The song ends and turns into something too fast.
"Thanks for the dance, Miss Richards." Evan bows.
I giggle. "Anytime, Mr. Harris." I return with a curtsy.
Evan gives me my favorite smile before he leaves the dance floor and goes back to Chelsea.
"Zoey, are you okay?" Evan asks.
"Yeah, I'm good, just got lost in my head there for a second."
Evan shakes his head and laughs. "Some things never change."
"They certainly don't."
I follow Evan off the dance floor and bee-line it straight to the bar. I approach and I see Griffin and he's smiling…at me. Cue butterfly action round three. My eyes drink every ounce of him in as I approach. I hadn't gotten a good look at him when we met, but now my eyes wander up and down his body. He is wearing a gladiator costume, that much I knew when we first started talking earlier tonight, but what I didn't notice was the body attached to it. He isn't built like Brett—let's face it, no one is built like Brett "the tank" Harris—and he isn't built like Evan; tall, lean and chiseled. Griffin is slightly shorter than Evan but still taller than me. His shoulders are broad and strong. He definitely has a body that he works at, but not overly. You don't get his athletic build sitting at home eating bon-bons, but he doesn't appear to be one of those slaves to the gym types. Griffin is definitely easy on the eyes with his boy next door looks—that pearly white, yet warm smile, sparkling blue eyes, and sandy blonde hair. A look I definitely could get used to—a look I am getting used to.
"Hi."
"Hi," Griffin echoes.
"Oh, please," Evan mumbles, and thankfully only my ears hear him. I elbow him in the side.
"Ow," he whispers, rubbing his side.
I lean into him. "Play nice or else I will elbow more than just your side."
"Fine."
"Griffin, this is Evan, my best friend. Evan, this is Griffin."
The two exchange handshakes.
"So, how did you avoid being
in the contest?" Evan asks, eyeing Griffin up and down, like he's sizing him up.
"Oh, I was luckily able to dodge that bullet this year. Usually Patrick and Geoffrey have me up on that stage. But, um, after a few years, I learned to hide. So, I hid when they were in search of contestants."
"Damn it, why didn't I do that? Oh, I know why, because someone handed me over to them." Evan tries his best to give me his version of a bitch brow; it just makes him look weird.
I laugh, hard.
"Don't blame me. It's 'cause you're Tarzalicious. They wanted you, and they were going to have you no matter how much I protested," I remind him.
"Um, I hate to say it, Evan, but she's right. Once those two get an idea in their heads, there's no letting go. They would have hog-tied you if they had to," Griffin adds.
Evan just shrugs his shoulders.
"Hey, Captain Spank Monkey, you about ready to go? I'm tired of my ass getting pinched, and it's not just by the ladies." Brett's boisterous voice breaks the silence amongst the three of us.
"Awww, Doctor Limp Dick, have you had enough house calls?" Evan teases.
"Fuck you, Tarzalicious." Brett glares at Evan.
"Oh, will you two ladies settle the fuck down," Nina scolds, coming up behind Brett.
"He started it," Brett and Evan accuse the other, fingers pointing.
Griffin looks at me, utterly confused. I smile and shake my head. This stuff happens all the time with the two of them. It's like they are two little kids on the schoolyard and the other just threatened to take their pail and shovel out of the fucking sandbox.
"Looks like it's past these two's bedtime. Zoey, I think we're gonna take off. Do you wanna ride with us? I, uh, think Ashlee is busy," Nina asks, her head nodding behind her, while Evan and Brett pout.
I peer over her shoulder, and sure enough, Ashlee is nuzzling the neck of a very fine cowboy, and she is giggling—looking happier than I've ever seen her.
Soul mates.
A smile crosses my lips and warms my heart. "Um, just give me a sec, I'll be right back," I tell Nina and smile at Griffin.
