Chapter 1
One Year Later
The music of the club thumps around me. It’s got the sort of bass that makes your internal organs consider relocating to a quieter neighborhood.
I’m on the dancefloor pulling out my best moves. My dancing style left subtle behind several pelvic thrusts ago.
Because I am totally, completely, and utterly looking to get laid tonight.
Halloween only comes around once a year, and my therapist Annie suggested I might feel more comfortable going out in costume.
Annie was right. The makeup and costume definitely make me feel almost like my old self.
Although my Yoda costume is both helping and hindering my moves. The ears in particular are a problem because I’m not used to having such large protrusions sticking out from my head, and I keep accidentally whacking unsuspecting patrons around me.
Death by Yoda ears. It would make for an interesting death certificate, at least.
I hadn’t wanted to cheat and wear a mask because I’m aware that if the evening proceeds according to my evil designs, I’ll have to take the mask off at some point.
And I don’t want to get to the point of having a guy consent to going home with me, then changing his mind when he catches a glimpse of my face.
So instead, I’ve gone for complete and total makeup. The thick green face paint I smeared over my skin took three YouTube tutorials to apply properly. I’m just hoping the heat from the club doesn’t transform me from Yoda to a mid-melt Wicked Witch of the West.
Luckily, it turns out Jedi robes are actually comfortable. Maybe I could start a revolution where we all wear nothing but Jedi robes. We could make them in different colors, maybe even a tie-dyed version, or a robe with sequins for formal occasions.
I’m plucked out of my fantasy of world domination via my Jedi-robes empire when I spot a tall, dark, and handsome man on the other side of the dancefloor.
Well, actually, I can’t exactly tell if he’s handsome or not because he’s wearing a mask, but his body is definitely what I’m looking for, broad shoulders along with a perfectly sculptured ass.
He’s also dressed in a Darth Vader costume.
If that’s not a sign from the universe, I don’t know what is.
I make my way through the pulsating bodies.
When I reach him, I move into his space, making sure he can’t ignore me.
“Horny, we are,” I say in my best seductive voice because we’ve already established that subtlety is not my mojo for the evening.
“I have to admit, that’s one pickup line I’ve never heard before,” he replies in Darth Vader’s breathy voice.
Oooh, it looks like he’s gone all-in with his costume and has a voice synthesizer clipped to his chest plate.
One can only hope he brings that level of commitment to all his activities.
“If you’ve never heard that pickup line, you’ve obviously never been to a Star Wars convention,” I reply.
“Is that what people get up to at Star Wars conventions?”
“Well, I’ve actually never been to one myself, but it’s just one big orgy from what I’ve heard.”
Darth Vader laughs. It’s quite a sinister sound.
Laughing at my jokes. I’ve always liked that particular trait in a man.
“There’s gotta be something that inspires such a devoted fandom, right?” I continue.
“I always thought it was the multiple uses for lightsabers,” he says, and it’s my turn to laugh.
Then the next song begins, and I decide it’s time to move on from seducing Darth Vader with my incredible wit to seducing him with my dancing.
Well, actually, I’m gyrating more than dancing. I grind against him in a way that is basically a clothed rehearsal for activities that usually require a locked door and a Do Not Disturb sign.
He doesn’t seem to mind.
His hand touches my waist, lingering on my hip, and my entire nervous system lights up. Oh wow, if the guy can do that with a simple touch, what the hell will he do if I let him loose on the full system?
I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be touched with desire instead of pity.
The crowd presses in around us, giving us an excuse to get even closer.
His thigh slides between mine as we move, and I have to bite back a sound that would be embarrassing even in this noise.
His palm burns through the fabric at my hip, his chest solid against mine, and his breath catches when I roll my hips just right.
I can feel his body responding to mine, the tension in his muscles, the slight tremor in his hands when they slide lower.
One song blends into the next, but we don’t stop dancing.
His hands continue to find all the places that make me shiver, even through Jedi robes.
His breathing changes through the mask, getting heavier, and I know mine’s doing the same. My hands find their way to his chest, feeling the solid muscle under the costume. This is definitely not the Darth Vader from the movies. This one comes with abs that would make an anatomy textbook jealous.
I’m basically climbing him like a tree at this point, and he doesn’t seem to mind one bit. In fact, it doesn’t feel like we’re dancing anymore. It feels like we’re having a fully clothed conversation about exactly what’s going to happen when we leave here.
The bass thrums through both of us, but I swear I can feel his heartbeat too, rapid and strong against my chest. Or maybe that’s mine. Hard to tell where I end and he begins.
I stretch to get closer to his ear.
“Get out of here, do you want?” I ask because I’m still trying for cute, even though cute stopped working for me a year ago.
“It appears I’m leading you to the dark side,” he replies.
“You know, Yoda was always gagging to hook up with Darth Vader. Why do you think he took himself off to Planet Dagobah to sulk after Anakin Skywalker turned to the dark side?”
“I think you might have watched a different version of the movies than I did,” Darth Vader’s voice replies.
“Is it slightly creepy that I’m getting turned on by Darth Vader’s voice?”
“No judgment here at all.” Darth Vader’s huffy tones come back. “It means borrowing this voice synthesizer was worth it.”
“Oh, trust me, I’ll make it worth it,” I say in my most flirty voice.
He pulls back and pushes his mask off his face.
Holy shit.
Even in the dark of the club, I can see his face matches the rest of him.
He’s drop-dead gorgeous, all dark eyes with strong eyebrows, a straight nose, and full lips. His smile is slightly crooked in that way that turns gorgeous into interesting.
He also looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t place where I know him from.
His eyes fix on mine, and I can see a mirror of my own want.
“There are a few things I need to clarify before moving forward,” I say.
“Ask away,” Darth Vader says.
“Top or bottom?”
He leans in closer toward me. “I’m up for both, but right now, I have a desire to pin you to the mattress and show you the true power of the Force.”
I swallow hard, hoping my naked want isn’t showing too much on my face. It’s hard because it’s been so long.
“Yeah, I could definitely be up for that,” I manage to rasp out.
Then, to try to regain some control of the situation, I lean forward and whisper sexily in his ear, “Ready for the next question about your sexual preferences?
“Sure.”
“Ears on or ears off?”
He laughs.
Should I be disturbed that the sound of Darth Vader laughing turns me on even more?
Pushing that aside to examine in my next friendly chat with my therapist, I grab his hand and tug him through the throngs on the dancefloor. We dodge a vampire making out with a zombie and sidestep a very drunk giant panda. We finally burst out onto the street, where the air is blessedly cool.
“Your place okay?” I ask. “I have an inquisitive roommate who’ll be slightly too interested in what Darth Vader and Yoda get up to.”
I’m lying. I’m currently living by myself. But at least if it’s at his house, I get to control when I leave. I don’t have to witness his speedy exit the next morning when he catches a glimpse of my face.
I really should consider being a vampire. Lack of daylight is a big thing in my life right now.
“My place is fine,” he says as he fishes his phone from his pocket to order an Uber.
I’m almost vibrating with anticipation as I stand next to him. I’m going to have sex! And with a hunky guy who’s looking at me like I’m someone worth chasing instead of someone to escape from.
“I can’t wait to see your lightsaber,” I say. And I relish in the sound of Darth Vader’s laugh.
“Careful what you wish for. There’s a chance that once you go to the dark side, you’ll never go back.”
“Scared of the dark side, I am not.”
He grins. “This is simultaneously the weirdest and hottest conversation I’ve ever had.”
“Weird and hot, my specialty they are. Lucky for you, hmm?”
Darth Vader laughs again.
God, I’m having fun right now. I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to do this, to feel this light. This free.
I’m guessing we’ll have to ditch his voice synthesizer at some point when we get naked, but I’m slightly sad about that fact.
Luckily, the Uber arrives before the world has to endure any more poorly executed Yoda innuendos that would make George Lucas weep.
We slide into the back seat. The driver glances in the rearview mirror, takes in our costumes, and seems to decide he’s seen weirder things tonight.
“Big Star Wars fans?” he asks as he pulls out from the curb.
“Uh…yeah,” Darth Vader responds, his hand finding its way to my thigh.
I try to focus on not combusting while we drive through the streets. I’m already half-hard just from anticipation about the upcoming fun. But then something distracts me from the weight of his palm on my leg.
The route the Uber is taking is familiar to me. That’s the coffee shop I discovered yesterday. And that’s the dodgy takeaway place my new neighbor warned me about.
My stomach drops. This is my neighborhood. My new neighborhood in Auckland, where I moved specifically to start over, where no one knows what I used to look like.
The Uber pulls up outside an apartment building, and my stomach falls even further.