Chapter 16 - Maren
Maren
I didn’t realize how much static synthetic fabric could make until I pulled the white dress down over my hips.
It clung like it had opinions. The belt cinched tight at my waist, and when I looked in the mirror—two messy buns high on my head, gold cuff bracelets glinting—I almost didn’t recognize the woman staring back.
Princess Leia, but the version who’d had one too many cinnamon martinis.
Miles whistled the second I stepped into the living room. “Well, hello, Your Highness.” He leaned back on the couch, fake blaster resting across his knees. “Permission to defect to the Rebellion immediately.”
Adrian looked up from smearing black paint across his cheekbones for his half-assed skeleton look. “That’s not fair. You said costume rules were PG.”
“Technically, it’s from a children’s franchise,” I said.
Ethan, in full Han Solo mode—because of course he was—adjusted the strap of his prop holster and gave me one long, skeptical look. “You’ll freeze out there.”
He fixed his jacket over my shoulders, pretending the hint of jealousy didn’t happen at all. I smiled to myself, liking the spark it caused in my chest.
We herded the kids out onto the sidewalk, their plastic pumpkins bouncing with every step.
Sadie was a cat, Emma a fairy, and Will had ditched all pretense of festivity in favor of a hoodie and vampire fangs he barely kept in.
Porch lights flickered on both sides of the street, and kids of all ages were starting to fill the gap in droves.
Adrian looped his bag of candy around his wrist. “I never thought a galaxy far, far away had this much…” his gaze trailed down my outfit, “…fabric tension.”
I elbowed him lightly. “You’re one to talk. That skeleton makeup isn’t doing much to distract from your skinny jeans.”
“You like that, huh?” He gyrated his hips toward me, his dick on full display under the impossibly tight crotch.
I broke into a blushing laugh, forcing myself to look away.
Miles grinned and walked backward in front of us, cape fluttering. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re the only one here making statements. If there’s a costume contest, I’m voting for you.”
“You can’t vote for me. That’s conflict of interest.”
“I’ll have to withdraw on moral grounds,” Ethan said, eyes dropping to my neckline.
I bit back another laugh. “That’s so selfless of you.”
“Painfully.”
The kids sprinted to the next house, their giggles carrying through the air. We followed, keeping a safe distance. Leaves crunched underfoot, and a motion-sensor ghost moaned from a front porch.
“You realize,” Adrian said, “wearing that costume when there’s nothing we can do about it is borderline cruel.”
“Cruel?” I repeated, feigning innocence.
“Mm-hmm.” He tilted his head, voice low enough to be lost under the rustling trees. “You walk around all night pretending you don’t know the effect you have. That’s villainous behavior.”
Miles snorted. “Darth Teaser.”
“Thank you,” Adrian said solemnly. “Finally, someone gets it.”
“You two are ridiculous.”
Ethan’s voice came from just behind my shoulder. “They’re not wrong.”
I turned, startled, and he looked down at me, expression calm but eyes sharp. “You’ve got every dad on this block re-evaluating his marriage,” he said.
“That’s your fault,” I shot back. “You’re the one who suggested Leia.”
His mouth curved into a sly smile. “I said classic movie character. You volunteered for the rebellion.”
The porch light ahead flicked on, and the kids shrieked. Sadie was shouting something about full-size candy bars. They bolted forward again, leaving us momentarily alone in the stretch between houses.
Miles slowed his steps, brushing my arm lightly. “So, be honest. You doing this to torture us?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
I flashed him a cheeky wink. “If it’s working.”
He laughed, but there was a glint in his eyes that didn’t match the sound. “Let’s just say your Jedi mind tricks are working.”
Before I could answer, Emma ran back, pink wings bouncing. “Maren, can I go with Rosa’s mom? A whole bunch of kids from school are walking together.”
Behind her, a woman in a witch hat waved. She looked familiar from drop-off, and I waved back. The rest of the kids were clustering around her in the kind of organized chaos that meant safety in numbers.
Emma’s small hand tugged at mine. “Please? Will’s going too.”
“He is?”
It took a butt ton of convincing to get him to agree to this in the first place, so the fact that he wanted to hang out with other kids was a real shocker. He looked sheepish, eyes on his shoes.
“Milla and some other kids from class are there,” he mumbled.
“Ah, okay.” He hadn’t mentioned a name the last time we spoke, but just the way he said it made me realize this mysterious Milla must be the crush.
I glanced at Ethan. He hesitated, then nodded.
“Go on,” I said. “You’ll have more fun with your friends.”
Emma’s face lit up. She darted off to join the others, calling a goodbye over her shoulder as Sadie and Will sprinted after her.
The street quieted again as the crowd moved on, laughter fading. The four of us stood there under a canopy of branches, porch lights winking down the block.
Miles stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Well. Guess the grown-ups are off duty.”
Adrian grinned. “Correction: the grown-ups are unsupervised.”
“You look like you’re thinking of something I might regret,” I said.
“Exactly.” He leaned closer, voice playful. “You sure you can handle that, Princess?”
Ethan was still watching the street where the kids had disappeared. “Let’s just keep walking,” he said quietly, and I fell into step beside him.
We walked like that, four adults in costumes that didn’t quite fit, down a street littered with candy wrappers and fallen leaves.
I’d taken this job to rebuild my life, to play it safe for once.
But tonight—somewhere between Miles’ teasing grin, Adrian’s careless charm, and Ethan’s impossible restraint—it didn’t feel like rebuilding anymore.
It felt like falling.
“Hey, we know this house,” Miles said, pointing to a looming black shadow on the street. He went up the path before any of us could respond, and there was nothing to do but follow.
We ducked through the black velvet curtains, and the haunted house transformed before us into a mix of cocktail party and creep-fest. Flickering candles lined the walls, cobwebs draped from chandeliers, and someone had placed a fog machine near the bar.
Miles had immediately commandeered a flute of champagne, his cape fluttering behind him as if he was some dashing bad guy plotting mischief.
Adrian disappeared into the crowd almost instantly, waving a hand at me as he went to talk to someone dressed like a Victorian ghost. I trailed after Ethan, who looked like he was ready to battle the undead instead of sip a martini.
“Relax,” I said, linking an arm with his. “It’s Halloween, not a zombie apocalypse.”
He shot me a look that was equal parts stern and wary. “That’s exactly what a zombie would say before it tried to eat me.”
I laughed and pressed a kiss to the corner of his jaw. “I’ll protect you. Unless it’s a newt. Then you’re on your own.”
Ethan’s gaze lingered on me longer than necessary, a faint smile curling his lips. My heart stuttered, and I had to look away before I melted into the candlelight and his impossibly intense stare.
The first room we entered was a graveyard diorama. Fog swirled low across the floor, and tombstones leaned at precarious angles. A few college-aged ghosts floated around, holding wine glasses and laughing too loudly. Ethan stiffened.
“Oh no,” he muttered.
“What?”
He gestured vaguely toward a tombstone where a skeleton hand popped up from the ground. “Nothing. I just don’t like this shit.”
Miles peeked from behind a corner and snorted. “It’s a fake hand, genius. Why are you sweating?”
The skeleton hand jumped again—okay, this time it was definitely someone moving it—and Ethan yelped. I bit back a laugh and stood on my toes to give him a quick kiss as a distraction.
“There. Better?”
He swore under his breath, and I kissed him again, soft and teasing, just enough to calm him. “First the newt, now ghosts. What’s next?”
“I don’t even want to think about it,” he muttered, though he didn’t pull away.
Miles wandered over, leaning in close. “Seriously, Ethan, you’re a grown man. You can handle a haunted cocktail party.”
“We should dance,” I said, giving him a tug in the direction of the pumping bassline. “Ghosts can’t get you while you’re dancing. It’s a rule.”
Adrian blocked our path, the white paint on his face glowing ominously under the UV lights. “The first rule of a haunted house is to make it through all of it. Only survivors get to have fun.”
“Count me out,” Ethan said, already untangling himself from me.
I grabbed his hand. “No, we’re staying together. You’re not leaving me to fend off skeletons alone.”
He gave a resigned sigh, but didn’t pull away, and I caught the corner of his mouth twitching. Somewhere under all that intensity, he was amused.
We moved through the rooms, each one more theatrical than the last. Cobwebbed hallways, a room full of floating books and dim chandeliers, a witch’s library with glowing potions.
I lost track of Adrian at some point, and Miles had disappeared to flirt with the woman in the masquerade mask.
Ethan and I were left navigating the final room: a dark parlor filled with mirrors and smoke.
“Don’t let the mirrors fool you,” I whispered. “Some of these are angled to make you feel like the ghosts are right behind you.”
Ethan stiffened. “Yeah, I kinda figured that out.”
“Last room,” I murmured, pressed tightly against him. “We’ve got this.”
He huffed, clearly unconvinced, and I leaned up to kiss his temple, lingering, letting my lips brush his skin in that slow, deliberate way that always made his jaw tighten.
“Okay,” he muttered, finally letting a small smile slip. “You get to have your way. Again.”
“Mhm,” I said, grinning. “Luckily for you, I’m fully trained in ghost defense.”
At that moment, Adrian’s laugh echoed from behind a fog bank. Miles’ voice followed shortly after. “Oh, come on! We can hear you two getting cozy in there. Stop stalling and let’s dance.”
We made our way back, and the three of us bumped into other partygoers—witches sipping wine from test tubes, a Dracula fanning himself with a silver fan, a zombie couple laughing too loudly.
Each interaction only made me relax more.
I wasn’t thinking about the messy parts of my life, or the messier parts of the men.
I was just… here, and laughing, and teasing, and letting myself enjoy it.
At one point, a loud cackle made Ethan jump so hard I almost lost my balance trying to catch him.
I kissed his cheek to “calm him down,” and he leaned into it, letting the tension melt from his shoulders.
Adrian was grinning at us from across the room, and I felt a warm twist of fondness for all three men.
Later, when the music shifted and the dance floor filled up, Adrian found me first, taking my hand and pulling me into a slow, teasing circle.
Miles soon joined, elbowing Ethan with a playful smirk.
Ethan just shook his head, but his hand found mine, and I pressed closer, feeling the faint heat of his body against mine.
I laughed when Adrian twirled me and whispered, “We’re going to have to get you out of this dress before midnight. Or you’ll turn into a pumpkin.”
“Right on time,” I chuckled, savoring the thrill.
By the time the party was winding down, and we were sneaking away from the crowd to a quieter corner, I felt like I hadn’t laughed this much in months.
The tension that had been knotting in my chest for weeks—between the kids, the job, the men, everything—had loosened just a little.
I could breathe. I could flirt. I could be alive in the moment without worrying about the next consequence.
“You look drunk. Are you drunk?” Miles threw his arm around my shoulders as we walked back out into the cool night air. His foot caught on the last step and he stumbled forward onto the sidewalk, saving himself from a full-on sprawl with a triumphant flourish of his arms.
“You look like you’re projecting,” I laughed. “Are you okay?”
“He doesn’t have to be,” Ethan said as he helped him find his footing. “Miles and Adrian get to go sleep it off in their quiet, kid-free house, while we deal with three kids hyped up on sugar.”
“We?” I bit back my smile.
His shoulders sagged as he started laughing, and the others soon joined in. We walked and talked the rest of the block, until we spotted the group of school kids on the other side of the street.
“Don’t let the sugar demons see us,” Adrian said, ducking dramatically behind a lamppost that did nothing to hide his lanky form. In fact, all it achieved was getting the attention of the kids across the street.
Sadie saw us first, her little face lighting up instantly.
“Look at all my candy!” Her fluffy booties flapped on the asphalt as she ran toward us, waving her pumpkin in sugar-fueled excitement.
The walk home buzzed with a summary of their night and rather generous offers of prized candy.
When we finally made it back to the brownstone, the kids were upstairs and asleep in no time.
I showered quickly, feeling the lingering warmth of the party still buzzing under my skin.
My Little Pony pajamas were soft against me, and I rolled onto the bed, head pressing into the pillows.
I smiled at the memory of the men teasing me at the party, their ridiculous costumes, and the way Ethan had nearly jumped out of his skin at every minor scare. There was something about it, a softness that made me want to stay here, with them, in this little bubble where nothing else mattered.
Then my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I picked it up, and the email preview made me pause. The sender: the principal of my old school.