Spooky Nights and Ghostly Lights (Miami Nights and Club Lights)

Chapter 1 Elton

CHAPTER ONE

Elton

I really shouldn’t be doing this.

Sweat trickles down my brow as my hands shake. The little confetti spider trembles between my fingers as I gulp. The ringing of “Monster Mash” is only mildly distracting me from my task.

Well, no. It’s distracting me from what I shouldn’t be doing.

It seems the Crypt-Kickers aren’t doing a good job.

Even with all the shit I bought organized in front of me, my eyes still keep darting to my phone on the nightstand. I’m not waiting for a notification—it’s even on DND—but the temptation it holds is becoming too strong to resist.

Don’t do it.

“Maybe just once,” I whisper to myself as I hastily drop the confetti spider. I stand up on shaky legs and walk over to my bed, grabbing my phone before I sit. I lay on my back and unlock it, and I continue to think that this is a bad idea.

My fingers hover over the internet browser before urgently pressing down and creating a private tab. Maybe just a little—

“Sweetheart, are you home?”

“Ah!” I shriek as I jump from the bed. I look around frantically and shriek again when I see my phone is still in my hand.

Knox’s footsteps are coming up the stairs and I panic.

I toss the phone a little too roughly over my shoulder, not looking where it lands, before plopping down back on the flood by the bed. “I-I’m in h-here!”

Knox’s hot as fuck face reveals itself as he enters are room.

Per usual, that grumpy-broody thing he has going on vanishes when he sees me.

His grey eyes brighten and he smiles that real smile I fell in love with.

That smile quickly fades when he sees what’s at my feet.

His eyes flutter shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Elton, what the fuck?”

“What?” I ask innocently, still a little rattled as I jazz-hand my trinkets. “I’m making Boo Baskets!”

“What the fuck is a Boo Basket?”

I wrinkle my nose at him. “You know, like a basket for Halloween. A basket that boos.” When he continues to stare at me in disgust, I scoff. “Well, I don’t know, Knoxy. I saw it on Pinterest and it looked cute.”

“We have to keep you off Pinterest,” he chuckles as he comes to sit beside me. He fiddles with some Laffy Taffy as he inspects the rest of the contents. “So, what’s going in these dumbass baskets?”

I talk him through my purchases, which he thinks are ridiculous, but it’s not his money—so fuck him.

Each one of our fam will have a custom-made basket with their names stitched onto them.

Inside the basket, they’ll each get an assortment of candies, some spooky trinkets, a Halloween mug, and a Club XO neon friendship bracelet.

“We’re delivering them later this week, by the way. Cass signed up to help.”

He muses this for a second. I can see the fight on the tip of his tongue, but he and Cass are friends now, so he relents. “Fine. What else have you been up to tonight? You didn’t answer any of my texts.”

I stiffen. I… I can’t tell him. No way. This is mega information that needs to be locked up tighter than the Pentagon. I’ll take this secret to my grave.

It makes me feel bad because Knox is the love of my life.

We’ve been married for over a year now, and he’s been absolutely everything I could ever ask for.

He’s still a grumpy shit, don’t get me wrong, but the black-cat act drops real quick when I give him a pouty lip and puppy-dog eyes.

Not that I use that to my advantage… Unless it’s three a.m. and I want Taco Bell.

“Elton?” Cocking his head, he places a large hand on my thigh. “Sweetheart, are you fucking… sweating?”

Okay, yeah, I’m shaking. I think maybe he’d understand, but I don’t want to risk it.

I don’t even know if I’m ready to admit it.

The pressure to say something is crippling me.

I’m happy-go-lucky—most of the time—and I don’t panic-sweat.

But, here I am, clammy as hell, practically dripping onto the hardwood floor.

All because I can’t tell my husband my secret.

Don’t do it.

“Elton. What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Why would something be wrong? Is something wrong with you? Because I’m fine.

I’m totally fine. I’m fineeeeee.” My voice is about two octaves higher than usual but that’s chill.

Nothing to worry about. I look around as if trying to look for an escape and my eyes land on the bathroom. “Oops! Gotta take a dump!”

I rush away from him and his confused/grossed out face. Once I’m in the bathroom, I slam the door shut, and I curse myself for running. Looking down at my sad boner, I sigh and slide down the door. I pull at my roots as I try to level my breathing.

I need to pull myself together.