Sinning with the Spirits (Halloween Temptation #6)

Chapter One

Denis

I GLARE DOWN MY nose at the house across the street.

Fake cobwebs cling to the corners and eaves of the frat house.

Pumpkins line a porch railing normally littered with empty beer cans and cigarette butts.

A huddle of guys cluster on the untended lawn, banging stakes into the ground to hold an enormous inflatable spider in place.

The whole thing is hideous and disgraceful.

I spin away, a shudder running down my spine. At what point did such a gaudy display of sacrilege become acceptable at this university? It’s borderline devil worship, especially considering what will no doubt go on inside that fraternity house come nightfall.

I shake my head at the whole thing. I’ve lived across the street from the frat house for two out of my four years at Arpor Sacred Sacrament University, and I’ve had entirely enough of their antics.

The Halloween party last year was a raucous and sinful affair, one that had no place on the campus of a prestigious Catholic university.

I am not enduring that again. No chance.

I turn reluctantly back to the debauchery unfolding before the frat house.

The guys have managed to stake down the inflatable spider, and now they’re celebrating with beers.

In the middle of the afternoon. How utterly typical.

As I watch, a guy in an outrageous crop top that exposes his whole midriff cracks open a beer and throws his head back to chug it.

His throat works obscenely, beer spilling from the corner of his mouth and running down his neck to make his tan skin glisten in the Southern California sunlight.

I spin away again, this time so rapidly I nearly lose my balance.

Does he really need to be like that all the time?

As far as I can tell, the fraternity isn’t specifically for those living a homosexual lifestyle.

Rather, one member just so happens to be of that persuasion.

That wouldn’t be so terrible if Emmanuel didn’t flaunt it all the time.

Would being a bit quieter about his proclivities really be so awful?

It is possible to control oneself in the name of decency.

Why, I’ve nearly got my degree and I haven’t sinned.

I try to brush the whole thing off, but the image of a thick drop of liquid carving along the stubbled path of Emmanuel’s throat lingers in my mind and leaves my mouth dry.

It takes more focus than it should to look up the campus police phone number.

I rush to clear my throat and sound normal before they pick up.

“Hello, I’d like to report a violation of the student code of conduct.”