Chapter 2
MIA
“Happy Halloween!” Haven, dressed as Harley Quinn, pulls me into a hug as I walk into Jett’s for tonight’s party.
“Wow, you look awesome! Where’s your puddin’?” As if I conjured him, Axel appears, winding his purple-suited arm around her neck with a smirk.
“Mia.” He nods, green hair flopping onto his forehead before he leans in to nuzzle Haven’s temple. This guy’s so gone for his girl. I don’t know many men who would let their partner dye their hair lime green for a Halloween party.
“Well aren’t you two adorable with your couples costume.”
Haven giggles in response before looking up at Axel and kissing him on the jaw. They are so sickeningly in love, they almost make me believe in it too.
But let’s be real, that shit is rare. I thought I’d found it once, but I was badly mistaken. I’d have more luck finding a unicorn farting rainbows.
And as much as I adore these two, I don’t want to be a third wheel tonight. It’s been forever since I’ve seen any action, and all their PDA has a habit of getting me into trouble.
The bad kind.
Trouble like fucking one of your best friends, aka your playboy roommate, in a bar restroom because you were drunk enough to think it was a great idea.
And you know what the worst part is? The sex was so good, I can’t get it out of my mind even after he made it awkward, throwing some kinda pity date invitation at me mid-fuck.
God, that still pisses me off.
I need to find some less complicated fun tonight so I stop accidentally fantasizing about the one guy I shouldn’t.
Shaking my head, I focus on the lovebirds again. “Are the others around?”
Haven grimaces in response. “Kim’s running late, babysitter didn’t show or something. Lucas is sniffing around Morticia over there, and since Swayze hasn’t arrived with you, I’m guessing he’s still at work. Let’s go get a drink. I loooove the outfit, by the way. Blonde suits you.”
“Well, you know what they say about blondes having more fun…” I wink at her and we laugh linking arms to walk to the bar. I guess it’s just me, myself and I, third wheeling for now.
Kim better show up.
Hell, I’d even settle for Swayze at this point. We used to have the best time before our little blip made things so weird.
I miss that.
I guess I miss…him, which is a ridiculous thing to say when I live with the guy, but them’s the breaks.
Yeah, no. We’re not spiraling down that rabbit hole again without a little lube.
It’s cocktail time.
Maybe it’s user error, but sliding onto the barstool is a whole ass new experience tonight.
“Stay down, fucker.” Yup, I’m scolding tulle like a crazy person, finger-pointing and all, because apparently an engineering degree is required to shove the thick, rigid swathes of white tulle under my thighs.
It’s almost impossible. Hell, I’ve probably flashed half the bar at this rate so the cute little Bride of Chucky mini dress proooobably wasn’t my best fashion choice.
But then again, it’s not every day you get to throw on a blonde wig, leather jacket and rock the thigh high fuck me boots.
I’m ready to cut loose.
I order a poisoned apple martini, before turning on the stool to scan the bar, taking in the dim lighting, smoke, and cobwebs everywhere giving it a creepy haunted feel.
Jett goes all out for Halloween and I damn well intend to enjoy it.
Especially since it’s been the worst week.
I’ve been on not one, but three dead-end MatchNote dates this week.
Three!
MatchNote lies. They say it has the most “matches” of any dating app currently out there.
It’s not even a free app. You pay for the privilege of this shit, and so far I’d have more luck trying to hold a conversation with a blow up boyfriend.
Inflatable Ian would probably have more game too.
I should’ve known the last guy was a dud the second he kicked his shoes off in the movie theater. Who does that on a first date? Actually, who does that at all? Do we know what’s been on those floors? Especially in the back row.
The one before that declared himself a feminist… while staring at my tits. He literally referred to them as “the girls.”
Like, yeah, ok. Flying that feminist flag out and proud, my dude.
And don’t even get me started on Perfume Guy. He showed up to our date with a freakin’ bottle of the stuff. For a second I thought maybe he was sweet, a little OTT for a first date, but at least he made the effort right?
Wrong.
It was inscribed with some other girl's name. And that wasn’t the worst part. He said he loved the smell because it was the same one his mom wore. There’s mommy issues, and then there’s mommy issues. I’m not down to get in the middle of any of that.
I’m so over it. At this point I’m ready to commit to a long-term relationship with my vibrator. It might be a little loud, but at least that knows what it’s doing.
Maybe I’m the problem.
Do I reek of desperation?
With a month before I’m due to fly out for my brother's wedding, I guess I am getting pretty desperate. If I don’t find a guy I can at the very least tolerate enough to make a believable boyfriend, not only am I going to have my entire family riding my ass about being single, but I’ll be reaffirming the parting words of the worst trash human to ever walk this earth—my ex-boyfriend, who’ll also be at the wedding because he just so happens to be my brother’s fiancée’s brother.
Don’t try and say that when you’re drunk.
Since I can still think it, I’m clearly not drunk enough.
Unlucky huh?
But that’s a problem for future me.
Right now’s not about finding a boyfriend, it’s about having fun. I’ve promised myself one wild night. One night to do whoever the fuck I want—see what I did there—without worrying about whether we can hold a conversation past coffee in the morning.
It’s been so long since my pussy’s seen any action it’s got more cobwebs than this entire bar.
Hopefully tonight will clean out the basement because it looks like every freakin’ hot guy in and around Sweet Haven has come out to play.
What is it about Halloween that brings out the hot sauce in everyone? Every guy in here looks totally fucking fire.
It’s gotta be the eyeliner.
Guys everywhere take note. Put some eyeliner on, get out there, and I guarantee you’ll get laid.
I should write a column about it.
Mental note: Email my editor tomorrow.
Haven giggles beside me and I spot Axel nuzzling her neck in my peripheral vision.
Well, chilling with the lovebirds isn’t going to get me anywhere fast. Time for this girl to shop.
I sip my cocktail, slowly scanning the bar. My eyes snag on a vampire who’s just walked in with a swish of his cape. He’s hot, his dark hair slicked back, and I can tell from here he has a good body and gorgeous eyes. I could go for a little Dracula action.
Oh, nope.
Tinkerbell has just thrown herself into his arms. Taken.
Damn.
Jack Sparrow’s laughing in a booth to my right with some friends. He looks cute.
I look over at Haven and Axel who are totally oblivious to my presence now. She's sitting on his lap while he whispers something in her ear. They aren’t always this bad, but given the alcohol they’ve likely consumed, well… let’s just say we’re lucky we’re not being given a show.
They won’t miss me.
“Babe, I’m gonna mingle. Be back in a bit.”
Haven nods in acknowledgement, her eyes not leaving Axel’s face as I slide off the stool, cocktail in hand, and balance on my six-inch heels.
I walk in the direction of Jack Sparrow but at the last minute I’m forced to pivot when a wench falls into his lap and they start making out.
My shoulders slump, as I survey the crowd again. Nada. No openings.
Jesus, is everyone taken here tonight?
I might be forced to abort my mission, dammit.
Sighing, I walk out to the courtyard behind the bar to get some air. Between the smoke machine and all the couples, it’s suffocating in there.
Thank fuck there’s no one else out here so I can take a few minutes to just be.
I can drop the picture perfect, painted smile I show the world. The one that fools everyone into thinking I’m fine. Because I’m not, and until I figure out how to unfuck my safe space—no pun intended—I’m not sure I ever will be again.
Ughhhh, there he is again, because of course.
If I’m not counting down the hours remaining until I face the man who broke me then poisoned me to the very core, I’m counting the hours I’ve spent avoiding the one man who used to be the safest space I knew.
Sighing, I lean against the railing and stare up at the star-strewn sky. For one night only, I need to let it all go and just enjoy the now. It couldn’t be more beautiful out here with only the soft glow of twinkling fairy lights wound around the branches of a tree in the center.
Sucking in a deep breath, letting the brisk sea air sooth my hot skin, and calm my racing thoughts, I take a slow sip of the cocktail in my hand, more for something to do to avoid going inside and stall my inevitable chronic overthinking spiral.
Hopefully, Kim will get here soon, she’s always a good distraction—and world class wingwoman. Tugging out my phone, I shoot her a quick text.
Me
Where are you?
Kim
The fucking babysitter bailed. We’ve called around but no one’s free tonight, surprise surprise. Jack was telling me to go but the hospital just called him in, so we’re fucked.
Me
Noooooooo FFS that sucks.
Kim
I’m sorry boo. Aren’t the others all there already?
Me
Harley and the Joker are. I left them making out by the bar and baby Thor’s making moves on Morticia right now.
Kim
Swayze?
Me
Fuck knows, probably still at work. He wasn’t home before I left. I’m hanging in the courtyard right now.
Kim
Girl, what the fuck? NO. You look hot as fuck tonight. Get in there and get some!!
Me
You’d think it was Valentine’s Day in there dude. Anyone remotely interesting is taken so far I’ll head back in soon, but don’t hold your breath. I’m not sure my Chucky’s here tonight.
Kim
Not with that attitude. Come on boo.
I dare you to go forth and let yourself have one wild night
Mia
Way to use my words against me.
Kim