Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Istood in the kitchen, watching the party unfurl before me as I sipped on a cocktail pegged the Creepy Eyeball, which was simply lemonade, grenadine, tequila, and a Halloween-themed eyeball gummy thrown in for good measure.
I would have said the eyeball was the only thing that made the drink scary, but the ratio of tequila to mixer was so off that I was absolutely petrified of the hangover I’d have tomorrow.
Other than the cocktail in my hand and the obscene amount of Halloween-themed food and booze that lined the kitchen island, I wasn’t sure if Zeta Sigma Noctura truly understood the concept of Halloween.
Nothing, and I mean nothing, about the party was scary.
Other than the sheer volume of people in attendance, that is.
Everything about the party was cowboy-themed. The girls of the ZSN sorority were all in matching outfits. They donned mini denim shorts or tasselled suede skirts and danced about in matching flannels in greens and reds with adorable cowboy boots to match.
From lasso-themed bunting to the country music playing through the speakers, I felt like I stepped into one of those cowboy romances.
Which, as a matter of fact, was where the idea had originated.
The ZSN girls were making their way through a long series of interconnected romances set in a small rural town where the men were rugged but had hearts of gold and the girls were as fearless as they were flirty.
I’d never considered myself to be particularly interested in cowboys before.
Still, there was something about the way Esme had described the books that had me temporarily swooning over fictional men.
And as much as I would have preferred this party to scream Halloween in the way that cobwebs and fake spiders and those cheap dollar store skeletons that held up cauldrons of candy did, I couldn’t help but appreciate where they were coming from.
I didn’t think it was possible, but if men like the ones in their books truly did exist, I’d be out line dancing and pulling on those pointed leather boots everywhere I went.
“Did you hear they found another body in Beaumont?” a girl in a glittery silver cowboy hat mused to a group of people as they walked through the kitchen.
Over the last few months, there had been a number of terrifying attacks that had left three girls dead across the state.
It was easy to push the notion to the back of my mind when the deaths were removed and far away, but Beaumont was a couple of towns over.
The whole thing had left our town a little on edge, because like the Darling, the cluster of surrounding towns were all small, close-knit communities.
All places that never had to worry about violence and crime.
Before I could descend further into the depths of my fear, a ray of sunshine came hurtling toward me with a tray of shots in her hand.
Esme looked stunning. Her silky blonde hair sat just beyond the collar of her tartan red shirt.
In true Esme fashion, which was to say everything she ever wore was well thought out, she’d paired the shirt with some red cowboy boots with floral appliqués and the tiniest pair of denim shorts that did wonders to highlight the length of her legs.
Her smile was absolutely blinding, and her dimples were on full display, highlighted by her rosy, red cheeks and shimmering makeup.
“Where are the rest of your shorts?!” I said, looking up at her incredulously before giggling and allowing her to pull me into a hug.
She was one of the few people I would ever allow to touch me, but God, it was nice to see her.
“You look,” I mused, tapping a finger to my lip in an exaggerated fashion, “what was the word you used earlier? Fuckable.”
“Don’t I fucking know it.” She laughed. “It’s why we sent a taxi to come get you. I couldn’t get Isaac out of the door.”
“Eww, gross,” I moaned, pushing her away from me. “We’ve been through this. You guys talking about sex with me is so weird. Isaac is like my brother. And you’re like my sister.”
“Well, thank god we live in Darling, Connecticut instead of rural America.” Esme winked.
“How are things with you guys anyway? I know you’ve both been so busy.” I cocked my head and looked at her.
“Things are really good,” she said, jumping up and down and pulling me into another hug.
When she pulled away, I tried to read between the lines of her smile, looking for any doubts or insecurities, but found none.
I found nothing other than the genuine happiness painted across her face.
And that helped settle my worries, not that I was justified in having any.
But I loved them both so much and I just desperately wanted to make sure they were making time for each other.
You don’t just give up on that once-in-a-lifetime love.
“If we get divorced, though, you can have double Christmas and birthday presents,” she added, laughing to herself. “You know, all we really needed was to carve out a little more time for each other. I’ve said I’m going to attend his practices too so we can hang out afterwards.”
“Oh no, how unlucky, watching hot guys getting sweaty playing sports,” I mused, letting my sarcasm drip into the space between us, before taking her hand earnestly and squeezing it once. “He’s a lucky boy.”
A moment later, Esme had shoved a shot into my hand.
The pleading grimace that made it onto my face did nothing to win me any sympathy points as my best friend settled me with a look that said, ‘Quincey Sterling, you’re doing this shot with me.
’ The liquid burned at my mouth and throat and sent a heated sensation coursing through my body and up my nose before she handed me another. Oh, it’s that kind of night then.
“Well, cheers to you guys,” I said and backed the next shot, once again trying to still my fear when considering how god-awful I was going to feel the next day.
As if fate itself had summoned him to our little spot in the kitchen, a man that could only be described as female-written-golden-retriever-cowboy (one that had likely been pulled straight from the pages of Esme’s book to this party) sauntered over to us.
A black cowboy hat covered his usually brown, messy hair, and his sun-kissed skin contrasted well with the blue of his shirt.
“Howdy, Ma’ams.”
For such a short sentence, I didn’t think it physically possible for someone to show less prowess with accents, but I’d never heard a worse southern accent in my life.
And it was quite possibly enough to undo all my previous interest in cowboys right there and then.
The tall man leaned in to give me a hug before shuffling backward and instinctively wrapping a hand around Esme before kissing her on the cheek.
“Isaac,” I said, smirking up at him. “I see Ez has convinced you that the cowboy way is the only way forward tonight.”
“Don’t even get me started. My feet are in agony,” he hissed before turning to Esme and plastering a smile on his face.
It was a few doey-eyed seconds and a kiss later (all things I was completely used to), before Isaac turned to me and took in my non-costume costume.
“What are you? I mean, it’s a great dress, Quince, but you look like you’re about to attend your own engagement party. ”
“Who says I’m not?”
“The fact that you spend every waking moment of your life watching old films or reading about creepy shit in the library,” Isaac mused.
“Babe, her reading about ‘creepy shit in the library’ is called studying,” Esme chimed in.
I gave her an appreciative nod before looking up at her boyfriend. “I didn’t really have any time to prepare. Ez called me like four hours ago. I’m just telling myself I’m a demon bride or something like that. You know, spooky in theory, but the execution leaves things to be desired.”
“Do you think demons are hot?” Esme laughed.
“I mean, if I’m marrying one, I certainly hope so.”
Esme looked up at her boyfriend, a shit-eating grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Well, seeing as Quincey isn’t actually getting married. Are there any guys from the Lacrosse team that we could set her up with—”
“I don’t want to be—”
“Sweetie, you look really hot right now. I would hate for this dress to go to waste,” Esme added, winking at me and pulling all dating autonomy from beneath my feet.
“Hmm, maybe, I’ll ask around,” Isaac said as if lost in deep thought.
“Don’t ask arou—”
‘You spend every waking minute with those men, how do you not know?” Esme looked up at her boyfriend with a face that made me snort the Creepy Eyeball I’d just picked up through my nose. “You seriously don’t know if any of them are single or not?”
“We don’t talk about that kind of stuff, babe.
” He shrugged. “Plus, we can’t just set little old Quincey Sterling up with anyone now, can we?
I’d need to give them the whole ‘hurt her and die’ spiel.
” A few of Isaac’s friends arrived a moment later, and he stalked off to greet them before I could get another word out about him going along with Esme’s plan.
Damn the alcohol coursing its way through my system, because if I wanted to be annoyed, I simply couldn’t.
The moment Esme turned back to look at me, rolling her eyes and smiling about how ridiculous boys were, all I could do was giggle.
And this was pretty much how the last six years had gone.
I love them. I loved us. Other than my grandparents, this cowboy-clad power couple was pretty much my family.
I knew everything about them, they knew everything about me, and despite all my insecurities, flaws, and painfully awkward mannerisms, they seemed to love me anyway.