Bryce added, “And Carolina is the only one who knows you might come tonight, outside of Corrigan’s fraternity. I doubt the stalker is from his house, Sheldon.”
I pressed my lips together. Did I really have to remind him that we had hired Marcus to cater the food for our own party, the one we threw to draw out the stalker? It had worked like a charm, except someone died from that party. I didn’t want the same thing to happen with this one. Then again, it wasn’t my party, I picked up the Zorro mask, and I’d never used masks like this either.
I guess it was better than nothing, or better than hiding in Denton’s house. As I thought that, my eyes fell to Bryce’s shoulder and how his shirt moved over his muscles as he drove. I let out a silent sigh. Yes. Staying any longer in that house wouldn’t have been good. I would’ve done something I would’ve regretted.
Definitely.
I snuck another look at Bryce’s arms.
*
“Damn, Sheldon.” Michael Reveritt wolf-whistled as he opened the back door for us. He stopped, blocking our entrance, as he looked me up and down. Holding a red cup in one hand and his other arm leaning against the doorframe, Corrigan’s fraternity brother smirked down at me. “You’ve got to be the best-looking serial killer I’ve ever met.”
My eyes went flat, and I shouldered past him, making sure my elbow pressed into his sternum. At his swift intake of breath, I grinned and pressed harder. Then I moved past, smirking back at him, “Oh, Ritt. How I’ve not missed you. At all.”
“Ha-ha.” He stepped back as Bryce and Denton followed me inside. Giving both a wary glance, he rubbed at his sternum and let the door close. Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, he said, “Everyone’s in rare form. We’ve been waiting for you, and I have to warn you guys,” he lingered on Denton, his smirk appearing once more, “everyone’s going as chicks so . . .” He swept an eye up and down both of the guys again before finishing, “guess what you’re going as?”
Denton started laughing.
Bryce scowled. “What? No. No way.”
As Denton kept laughing, Bryce turned to him. “Why aren’t you pissed?”
He got a shrug as a response. “I’m an actor. You do what you have to do.” He gestured to Michael and where we could hear everyone in the living room. “If that’s what we have to do to blend in.” Another shrug. “So be it.”
Michael Reveritt looked at me. A speculative gleam in his eye and I shook my head, holding up the Zorro mask. “No way, buddy. They can be chicks. I’m down with that, but I’m chick enough. I’m going as Zorro so give me a sword.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re never any fun, Jeneve.”
I smirked. “I’ve got half a country and an entire police department that says otherwise. According to them, I’m too much fun.”
“Har-har.” He scowled before he finished his drink and went to the counter for a refill. “I’ve missed that charm. Really.”
“Ha-ha.” I glanced around. Going to the doorway, I saw that he was right. Most of Corrigan’s fraternity brothers were wearing ball gowns, masquerade masks, and wigs. I wrinkled my nose. Half of the wigs were falling off. The other half were in knots. I turned back and surveyed Michael. He looked normal. No dress. No wig. No mask. I asked, “Aren’t you joining in with the festivities?”
“Me? Nope.” He leaned against the counter with his new drink in hand. “I’m hanging back to be the sober cab.”
I gave his drink a pointed look. “Sober cab, huh?”
He flashed me a grin. “Well, you don’t need one now, but later,” he leaned forward, “I’ll be sober then.”
Corrigan came into the room then and the conversation halted. We had to take in the magnificence of him. Gone was his earlier disguise. A strapless, glittering green dress with cleavage that dipped low to line the sides of his nipples had taken its place. If he’d been wearing a dark hair wig instead of a platinum blond one, I would’ve been tempted to call him JLo. As it was, with glitter on his cheeks and his masquerade mask already in place, a silver one with bright and shiny beads, the only thing I could say was, “Well.”
I was struggling not to laugh.
He shot me a dark look, but the corner of his mouth lifted.
“Dude.” Michael nodded once with his approval. He lifted a hand, throwing it up and around to smack Corrigan on the ass. “If you were a girl, I’d want to doggy pound you.”
Denton laughed then, and I glanced over at them. Bryce was trying to hold back his own, too.
“Just wait,” Corrigan warned them, smirking. “You think I look hideous? Guess what we have lined up for you two?”
“What?” Denton stopped laughing.
So did Bryce. “Huh?”
Jaden (Jaded #3)
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