He met my gaze, an amused smile on his face. “I think that was implied.”
“Somehow I didn’t know,” I told him slowly, the words lagging behind my brain. “I thought ‘Hey, a Halloween party!’ I forgot about alcohol. And here we are.” I smiled up at him again, then leaned my cheek against his man chest.
Then the full implications of where we were hit me.
“Whoa.” I looked around the room with grave concern. “People do stuff back here. And you took me in here and kicked everyone out.” My eyes got big. “I bet people think we’re doing stuff.”
“We’ve been back here for a grand total of two minutes.”
“So?” I scoffed. “I hear it doesn’t take long for some people. Pigs,” I muttered with an disgusted shake of my head. I got dizzy and planted my nose on his clavicle. “That’s not love, that’s just sex.” And then the fact that I’d never, in fact, had sex, nor had I been in love, made me consider that it was possible I had no idea what I was talking about. “Maybe,” I amended. “Maybe they’re pigs. I dunno.” I looked up at him. “Do you think you can do it in two minutes?”
“Okay,” he said, flushing even in the faint light. “Time to go find Trish.”
“Adrian,” I said, suddenly desperate that he know the truth. “I didn’t decide to be a vampire. I just didn’t have a costume.” I tugged at the cloak until it slid to the floor, then looked down and kicked off my heels. “I think this makes me look stupid,” I mumbled, staring at my feet. “I think this makes me look really stupid.”
My eyes watered as I tried to burn a hole in the floor just by staring at it; one big enough for me to fall through and disappear and go home. I was miserable. I thought being drunk was supposed to make you happy, but it didn’t, it made you miserable, and sad. I hiccuped awkwardly and looked up at him. “It’s not a cloak, it’s my mom’s…” I trailed off, momentarily forgetting what I was talking about. I caught sight of it again in a puddle on the floor and bent to pick it up, latching on to Adrian’s pants to keep me upright. I stood and held it in front of me. “It’s my mom’s quilt. It’s not a cape.” I looked up at him, as though the coming information was still surprising. “She died. Eleven—” I interrupted myself with a hiccup. “Eleven days ago.”
And I didn’t feel like standing anymore, so I let my knees buckle, but Adrian caught me. After a moment, I put my arms around his neck and hugged him because I wanted to, because he was there, because he was warm, and for once the anger was gone and I was just wholly, completely sad.
“You’re a good guy,” I mumbled.
Before he could reply, the door burst open and a couple staggered in, completely oblivious to Adrian and me as they tottered over to a couch and did … stuff. Using one hand to prop me up, Adrian reached into his pirate pants and pulled out his phone, checking it.
“It’s one thirty. You want to go home?”
I looked up at him and frowned. “I don’t have a home. The ranch is not my home.” It was very important that he understand that.
He nodded. “Do you want to go back to your aunt and uncle’s?”
I flopped my face back on his chest. “I can’t. I told them I was spending the night at Trish’s. I can’t go back looking like this.”
Adrian smiled with the corner of his mouth, and it was adorable. “No,” he said. “I suppose you can’t.”
“Trish won’t want to go. She’s having a good time. I don’t want to make her leave because of me.”
“Do you want to stay?”
I looked back up at him, miserable and dizzy. “No.”
“Come on.” He handed me my shoes and led me out the door and back into the party. Despite my paranoia, nobody paid any attention to us since truth or dare was still going on and apparently some of the girls had agreed to interesting dares.
I stopped abruptly in the middle of the crowd. “What about Trish?” In my inebriated state, it sounded more like “Trissssssh.”
He glanced through the horde, but neither of us could spot her. “Text her that I’ll bring you over before her parents are awake.”
I thought about it a second. I didn’t want to stay. I couldn’t go to the ranch. I couldn’t go to Trish’s. “Where are we going?”
He smiled with the corner of his mouth again. “My home.”
Little warning bells dinged loudly in my head. Or maybe that was the headache. “Won’t your parents wonder about you bringing me home so late? Dressed like this?” I clutched my cloak around my shoulders and shivered like a crazy old cat lady.
“First of all, I live with my aunt and uncle,” he explained. “Second, we don’t even have to see them; there’s a balcony connected to my room and we can get in through there. But they wouldn’t mind either way.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.