Chapter 14 Nathan
NATHAN
Ifucking hate Halloween.
Sure, it was great when I was a kid—free candy, no bedtime, running around high on sugar. But now? I’m standing in the middle of a packed house, surrounded by fake cobwebs and plastic skeletons, dressed as fucking Luigi.
The fake mustache itches like hell and keeps peeling off my lip. The suspenders dig into my shoulders, and if one more person yells “It’s-a me!” I’m ripping off this mustache and setting it on fire.
There are way too many people here. My palms itch just thinking about how much of this mess I’ll end up cleaning up tomorrow.
I push off the wall, ducking through the crowd toward the kitchen, only to smack my head against the orange string lights Austin hung up.
I bat the lights out of the way and let out a sigh, weaving past the rookies playing flip-cup.
They shout for me to join, and I shake my head, adjusting the fake wrench on my belt that knocks against my leg as I walk—yes, I have a prop—and I remind myself how the hell this whole matching costume idea was Ryan’s fault to begin with.
And speak of the devil…
I find him by the stairs, his red cap crooked and his mustache hanging on for dear life.
He looks me up and down and lets out a scoff. “You look fucking ridiculous.”
I level a look at him. “You’re wearing the exact same thing.”
He shoots me a grin. “Yeah,” he says, taking a swig from his cup. “But I make it work.”
I huff out a laugh. “Don’t you have a girlfriend to annoy?”
He starts to reply, but the front door swings open and in walks my sister and her roommate.
They walk past a group of guys dressed as zombies, all of them turning their heads at once.
Of course they do. The white corset over her silk dress is practically lingerie.
I drag a hand down my face, groaning. The flimsy wings on her back are the only things making it clear she’s supposed to be an angel. I almost laugh. Angel, my ass.
Aurora walks beside her in a matching costume, but in a short, tight black dress instead, with matching black wings.
“Fucking Christ, Izz.” I groan, shaking my head as she spots me. “You couldn’t find something other than underwear to wear?”
She rolls her eyes, unfazed. “Stop being so dramatic. It’s a dress.” Her eyes find Ryan beside me and she ignores me completely. “Mario,” she says, grinning as she slides her arms around his neck. “You clean up nicely.”
He slides an arm around her waist with a cocky grin. “So do you,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into that low, flirty tone I wish I could unhear. “Fuck, curls, you look—”
I cut him off with a glare. “Finish that sentence and I’m throwing myself through a window.”
Ryan just laughs and leans in to kiss her.
Annnd here comes the vomit building in my stomach.
I grab the nearest drink off the counter and take a long sip. “Someone fucking shoot me,” I mutter.
“Move, peasants.” Austin strolls in, wearing brown pants, a half-buttoned white shirt, blue vest, and a stuffed lizard hanging off his shoulder. “Flynn Rider has arrived.”
He flips his cheap-ass brown wig dramatically and winks at his girlfriend, who’s rocking a short lavender dress and a tiny gold crown glittering in her dark hair.
“And my princess, of course,” he says, looking down at Maisie with a lovesick smile on his face.
“Oh my god!” my sister says with a grin. “You two look so cute.”
I glance at them, then nod, my brow lifting. “I know this is going to inflate Austin’s ego tenfold, but she’s right.”
“Please.” Austin scoffs. “My ego’s been inflated since birth.”
Maisie chuckles, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Thank you. You look good, too,” she says, eyeing my costume. “Very… um… green.”
I sigh. She’s too nice for her own good. Can’t even lie and tell me I look like an idiot. “Thanks.”
She smiles, but her boyfriend—unsurprisingly—starts humming the Super Mario Bros. theme under his breath.
He elbows me, grinning. “Come on, do the voice.”
“Fuck off,” I mutter, shoving him away.
Austin just laughs, slinging an arm around Maisie’s shoulders like the smug bastard he is.
And that’s when Cole steps through the door, in what I guess technically counts as a costume—black hoodie, jeans, and black paint across his face in the shape of a skull.
Austin whistles. “Holy shit, Ellis actually dressed up.”
Ryan scoffs, shaking his head. “This is the least amount of effort I’ve ever seen someone put into Halloween.”
Cole shoots them a look. “Wasn’t planning on coming.”
“And yet you did” Aurora says dryly. “How tragic.”
He meets her eyes, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “Careful, Viper. Your fangs are showing again.”
Ryan exhales beside me. “Jesus Christ.”
If glares could kill, Cole would be a dead man. Aurora turns without another word and heads for the exit.
Cole knocks back the rest of his drink and follows a few seconds later. Or maybe he just happens to be going the same way.
Austin grins. “Ten bucks says they hate-fuck before the semester’s over.”
My brows dip. “Doesn’t she have a boyfriend?”
“Not anymore,” Ryan tells me, shaking his head.
I don’t even have the chance to ask what happened because I feel a hand land on my arm.
I glance down, seeing a girl in bunny ears wobbling a little. Her drink nearly tips, and I catch her arm before she spills it all over both of us.
Her eyes flick up to me and she smiles. “Thanks, Luigi.”
“No problem,” I offer with a tight smile.
Her eyes stay locked on mine and her grip tightens slightly on my arm. “You look so tense,” she says, leaning closer to me, the strong smell of vodka burning my nose hairs. “Maybe I can help with that.”
Jesus. Not only is she drunk out of her mind, and I’m not even the least bit interested, there’s a fat chance of that happening unless she can make me forget who I’ve been looking at all night.
My gaze catches on Logan across the room as I help Bunny Ears sit.
He’s stretched out on the couch in all black, fake blood trailing down his throat, fangs flashing when he grins.
It’s been a couple of days since we came back from the away game—which we lost by two points because I couldn’t stop a single damn puck—and I still haven’t spoken to him.
The guys all went out drinking to ease the loss, but I went to my hotel room, wishing I could just be fucking normal instead of being confused all of the fucking time.
My thigh was hurting, my pride was shot, and the last thing I needed was Logan coming in and making a stupid joke.
I didn’t want to joke about it or talk about it at fucking all, so I haven’t. He’s left me alone since then and I fucking thank God for it, because I know if he keeps pulling at the thread, it’s going to unravel completely.
And I can’t let that happen.
But even though I know damn well I shouldn’t, I haven’t stopped looking at him since some guy I’ve never seen before—dressed like a fucking pirate—sat down beside him and started touching him.
Heat crawls up my neck, and I look away, grab a cup, fill it with whatever’s in the bowl, and down it in one go.
Austin eyes my drink and his brows knit together. “Wait… are you on your second drink tonight?”
I place the empty cup back on the table. “…Yeah.”
“Holy shit,” he says with a laugh. “Hayes is finally enjoying himself. Who would have thought?”
I shoot him a glare. “I don’t need to drink to have fun.”
He clicks his tongue, arching a brow. “You sure don’t have fun sober,” he jokes. “No one’s judging you, man. It’s good. Loosen up.”
I take another sip and don’t respond. I’m not drinking to have fun, I’m drinking because I’m too fucking wound up, and it’s either this or go back to my room and overthink everything I’ve already spent the last forty-eight hours obsessing over.
My eyes drift to them again. The pirate guy’s still there—leaning in close, saying something in Logan’s ear—and Logan laughs, tipping his head back like it’s the funniest shit he’s ever heard.
What the hell could he possibly be saying? Nothing’s that fucking funny.
It’s stupid. Irrational. I shouldn’t care. I don’t care.
And yet, I can’t fucking look away.
“Hey,” one of the rookies says, snapping me out of it. “Anyone lose a wallet?”
Ryan glances at it and squints. “I think that’s Logan’s.”
Before anyone else can speak, I’m already reaching for it. “I’ll give it to him.”
I stand, ignore the way Austin shoots me a side-eye, and weave my way through the crowd toward the couch.
My fingers close around the wallet and I tell myself it’s just the practical thing to do.
I’m closest. That’s all.
Logan’s still mid-conversation, the guy leaning in a little too close now, his hand still on his arm and Logan doesn’t move away.
Maybe that wouldn’t bother me so much if I could just get the thought of last week out of my fucking mind. If he hadn’t touched my leg like that. If I hadn’t fucking dreamed about it after. If I didn’t keep thinking about his hand and mouth and—
God, I’m tired.
Tired of thinking about it. Tired of feeling something I don’t know what to do with.
I grit my teeth and tap his shoulder before I can talk myself out of it.
Logan glances over, his eyes dragging over the stupid Luigi hat before sliding down to my face—and his mouth curves into a smirk. “Hey, Luigi.”
I jerk my chin toward the hallway. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”
For a second, he just watches me, searching my face as if he’s trying to figure out what this is. “Uh… sure.” Logan turns to the guy and gives a lazy, apologetic smile. “Give me a minute?”
The guy shrugs, and I start walking, feeling Logan follow me as we move toward the dim hallway—somewhere quieter, somewhere we can talk without half the party watching.
“What’s up?” Logan asks when I stop and turn to face him.
I hold out his wallet. “You left this at the table.”
He takes it, spins it once between his fingers, then looks at me. There’s a smudge of fake blood on his collarbone, and of course that’s the first thing I notice. Lately, it feels like all I do is notice shit about him.