A Four Letter Word (3 page)

"And don't forget
the
fiercest and hottest couple," Patrick interjects.

"That too."
Ashlee smiles.

Nina reaches her hand forward to Geoffrey and Patrick.
"Nice to meet both of you. Ignore the two uncivilized, momentarily incapacitated Neanderthals at the moment. Thanks for having us."

Geoffrey and Patrick look at Nina's outstretched hand, then each other, and then Nina's eyes. Both of them lunge forward and embrace Nina. She laughs and hugs them back.

"Honey, you have legs to die for." Geoffrey looks Nina up and down.

Patrick gives him a little playful nudge.

"Sorry, baby, your legs are to die for too."

Patrick nuzzles Geoffrey's cheek, whispering a thank you. Nina slips out of their arms and sidles up next to Ashlee and me, leaving Evan and Brett wide open.

"Ashlee, Ashlee, Ashlee, you forgot to mention what fine, fine looking men…"

"
Hotties, I would say hotties," Patrick interrupts.

"You are so right, love—
hotties. You forgot to mention what fine-looking hotties Evan and Brett are. Mmmmm, mmmmm, mmmm, aren't they just delicious?"

Geoffrey licks his lips, exaggerating as he does. I love him already; both of them, actually. Anyone who can make those two
squirm, by messing with them, is on the top of my favorite people list. Ashlee was right, like she always is. Evan and Brett are rendered speechless. Brett's mouth still hangs open, and Evan hands are tugging on his loincloth, frantically trying to make the small piece of fabric suddenly become a blanket and cover him completely.

Geoffrey gives a wink.
"Gotcha."

I have never seen two people more relieved in my entire life. Ashlee, Nina, and I can't help but laugh our asses off.

"Geoffrey, I love you," Nina announces after her laughter is under control.

"Who doesn't?" He remarks.

"I think Dr. Yummy and Tarzalicious don't." Patrick pouts.

"Oh, honey, they love us, they just don't know it yet."

"True. It usually takes the non-gay men a little while longer to love us."

Geoffrey nods. Ashlee and I finally catch our breath as our fit of laughter subsides. Evan glares at me before coming over and whispering in my ear, "Why didn't you warn me?"

"Evan, Ashlee didn't warn me."

"Oh."

"So, Doctor, do you make house calls?" Patrick teases.

"Fuck, I need a drink." Brett grabs Nina's hand and starts to go after a ghoul with a tray loaded with a red concoction. Nina laughs and wiggles her fingers bye.

"I expect my shot of penicillin when you get back, Doctor," Patrick yells.

Brett's shoulders slump, and Nina is in hysterics before they get lost in a sea of macabre characters. Evan is laughing so hard his body is shaking.

Patrick raises an eyebrow. "What about you, Tarzalicious? Do you scare off that easily?"

Evan regains control and smiles. "Do your worst."

Patrick's face scrunches up in deep concentration and then his eyes ignite. "When your monkey's giving you a 'hard' time, do you spank it, or can I spank your monkey for you?"

Evan's cheeks take on a slight pink glow, and he squirms a little before he bursts out laughing along with everyone else.

"Oh, this one
is
fun." Patrick giggles.

Geoffrey wraps his arm around Patrick and tucks him into his side. "Okay, my lovely guests, there's food, there's drinks, dancing. Have a blast, and we will see you around." Then, Geoffrey flutters off with Patrick in tow.

"Are those two for real?" Evan asks.

"Aren't they the best?" Ashlee's smile overtakes her features as she watches the two lovebirds get lost in the sea of people.

There is only one answer to that question. "Ashlee, I love them. I wish I could have met then sooner."  And it’s the truth, although I feel like I’ve known them for years already just with our first encounter.

"I know, but your and their schedules never matched up.  Geoffrey and Patrick are always gallivanting around the globe whenever they have time off.  Anyway, I told you, you would. I know they can be a bit much, but they have both been there for me, and working with Geoffrey is just…they really are the best two best friends a girl could ask for, besides you."

"Thanks, Ashlee." I nudge her. She wraps her slender arm around my shoulder and hugs me to her side, and then I feel her freeze.

"Ashlee, are you okay?" When I turn to look at her, she has this longing look on her face, and her eyes are glued to something off on the other side of the room. I wave my hand in front of her eyes, and she doesn't blink, doesn't flinch. I look to Evan and he just shrugs, having no idea what is going on.

"Ashlee?"

Her eyes finally blink, and then four words come out of her mouth. "Found my soul mate."

My eyes travel the expanse of the room and zone in on what or who she's looking at, and that's when I see a very gorgeous blonde cowboy. The cowboy quickly makes his way over to us, and I feel Ashlee tremble against me. He closes the last few feet in lightning speed, and the two stand face to face, chests heaving, eyes fixed on each other, and with similar smiles on their lips.

"Hi." They say at the same time.

Evan and I give each other a quick glance, making sure we are seeing the same thing. Yep, definitely seeing the same thing, because I'm pretty sure I have the same confused expression on my face that he has on his. We both turn our attention back to the Old West duo.

Cowboy utters one word, "Dance?"

Ashlee utters one word back, "Yes."

And just like that, the two of them link hands, intertwine their fingers, and lead off to the dance floor, their eyes still focused solely on the other and nowhere and nothing else.

"What the fuck was that?" Evan's hand rubs his eyes, making sure he's seen what he's just seen.

"Soul mates."
And for some bizarre reason, I believe she's really found hers. I've never seen Ashlee react this way to any man—ever. Not even when she thought Ryan Reynolds was her soul mate after she saw
The Proposal
.

"Do you believe in soul mates?" Evan's eyes playfully twinkle, challenging me.

"Hmmm, do I believe in soul mates? I don't know. The jury's still out on that one."

"Same here, but Ashlee seems to believe."

"Ashlee is a hopeless romantic, so of course she believes in soul mates."

"And you're not a hopeless romantic?"

I give Evan my bitch brow.

"Okay, okay, backing off. You
wanna get a drink?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Evan leads the way to the bar, his hand on my lower back guiding me, and I can't help but mull over his questions. Soul mates? Yeah, I think I believe in soul mates. At one time, I thought I found mine, but I was clearly mistaken. A part of me is a hopeless romantic—I want that fairy tale romance you read about in chick-fics or see in romance comedies.  But, that four letter word has never really truly found me or I it. I look up at Evan and he smiles back. Yep, I believe in soul mates.

Chapter 4

We finally reach the bar, after dodging a few bloody zombies and ghouls that are a part of the scenery Geoffrey has created. I may or may not have grabbed Evan's arm, my nails digging into his bicep. I also may or may not have jumped when one zombie popped out of nowhere and scared me. Evan didn't even try to hide his amusement; so much for being my bodyguard.

"So, what will it be?"

Hmmm, what do I want, what do I want? Dirty Martini? Malibu and pineapple? A shot? Do I need to get stupid drunk or just a little buzzed?  Hmmmmm?

"Beer is fine."

Evan gets the attention of the bartender, who looks like a Chippendale dancer, and orders our beers. They fortunately arrive in no time, and he hands me mine. We clink bottles, and I guzzle down about half my beer. Evan eyes me curiously.

"Thirsty." I somewhat lie. I am thirsty, but I think I just need a little liquid courage to not feel so out on display wearing what I’m wearing.  I know other people are dressed in even less than me—if that’s even possible—but I still feel a bit out a place.  The shy part of me is making a rare appearance.  She does this every once in a while, and it’s been ages since she’s made herself known.  I guess she wanted to celebrate Halloween too. I continue to drink, taking smaller sips.

Evan is giving me that
look
—that look that lets me know he doesn't exactly approve, but knows I'm going to do what I want to do, no matter what he says. We've had this discussion—this argument—one too many times. Evan is always protective, sometimes
too
protective of me. I give him my "stink eye," and he eyes me up and down, shakes his head, and returns his attention back to his own beer. We continue to drink in silence, when Geoffrey flutters up from behind.

"So, how are we doing, hotness?"

"Great," I answer unenthused.

"You're hot too, lovely
Zoey, but I was asking Tarzalicious here."

Evan immediately turns several shades of red.
"Fine. I'm…uh…fine, thanks," he stammers.

"You sure are." Patrick adds out of nowhere.

"So, Tarzalicious, there's a contest for the hottest male costume, and we insist on you being in it," Geoffrey mentions, waggling his eyebrows, and I think Patrick is purring next to him.

Yep, he's definitely purring. Evan looks like a deer caught in headlights and practically chokes on his beer. I cover my mouth, stifling my laugh. The look on his face is priceless. Where is my camera when I need it?

"Uh, no thanks, I'm…uh…I'm good." His hand nervously rubs the back of his neck.

"Oh, I bet you're good, all right." Patrick teases.

The flower fucking kills me. I have never seen Evan so nervous—on edge—at a loss as to what to do. Usually he's Mr. Calm, Cool, and Collected.

Maybe I should help him out. That would be the best friend thing to do, right?

"Evan, you really should enter. I think you have a good chance of winning,
Tarzalicious
." I smirk totally teasing him.

Evan glares at me. He clearly is not up for doing this, but what would be the point in that? Yep, so not helping, am I? It's payback for making me wear this ridiculous costume. Maybe this will teach him to wait to the last fucking minute next time.

"Zoey, I really don't think…" Evan starts.

"First prize is five hundred dollars." Geoffrey informs, trying to entice Evan.

"Ooooo, and there's crown and a sash too," Patrick adds.

Not helping, Patrick.

"Come on, Evan. You're not chicken, are you?" I tease.

Evan can't resist being called chicken—he hates it. Whenever I want him to do something, I call him chicken a few times, and finally he gives in. His hazel eyes turn on me, fuming. I flap my arms like I'm a chicken and give a little cluck. Evan's resolve is starting to crumble.

Yep, I've got him.

I can see he's waging a war in his head, but it's useless. I know he'll acquiesce; it's only a matter of seconds. A couple of more flaps of my arms and…

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One
.

"Fine, I'll do it." He succumbs to my te
asing, so predictable. His jaw is tight, he’s grinding his teeth, and I have no doubt he is cursing at me in his head; especially when I notice that vein throbbing near his temple.

I knew he'd give in. He can't stand being called chicken. Geoffrey and Patrick bounce with excitement…Geoffrey more so than Patrick. He's definitely Ashlee's twin—a rather large, muscular, penis-toting twin, but a twin nonetheless. Patrick and Geoffrey link their arms around Evan's.

"Tarzalicious, I think I've died and gone to bicep heaven. I could so lick your arms right now." Patrick purrs.

I knew his arms were totally
lickable.  So it isn’t just me.  Images of Evan being all shy trying on the costume, his arms flexing as he pulls down on the loin cloth, come flooding back and I am momentarily wanting to reach out and lick his arms—lick the arms of my best friend
.  Get a grip Richards.

I am brought back from my brief trip down totally hot, yet inappropriate, memory lane by a clearing of the throat, a scowl and stink eye, all the while Evan is  turning several shades of pink and then red.

Lickable arms or not, I’m still holding a grudge for having to be here dressed in next to nothing no matter how good I may look. I mouth, "You're welcome."

The Dynamic Duo
start to walk away, pulling a very reluctant Evan with them.  The look on his face is pleading, begging for me to help him out—I so should, but don’t. Before they flutter off, Geoffrey turns to me. "Oh, and Zoey, we've entered you in the female's hottest costume contest. It's right after the men's."

I almost do a spit take, and Evan loses it.

"See ya in a few." Evan teases the red color leaving his face, his eyes twinkle with a take that.

And the trio is off, and I am left standing, stunned.

Fan
fucking
tastic.

Again, so much for
laying low, and so much for being my bodyguard. I will so get him back. He knows damn well I don't like being in the fucking spotlight. And being on that stage will definitely have me in the spotlight—all eyes on me. I could so kill him…and the bee…and the bright ass pink flower. And let me add Ashlee to the list. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her. Damn Halloween. Damn Evan breaking up with Amanda. Damn Ashlee for suggesting this costume place. Damn Evan for waiting to the last minute. Just damn! Well, it seems I'm stuck and have no choice. I don't think the Dynamic Duo is going to let me back out, seeing how Evan had no choice. And if I'm going to be in this contest, then I am definitely going to need some liquid courage, and this beer just ain't gonna cut it. I get Chippie's attention and order a shot of Jaeger…my instant courage in the form of a dark elixir. Chippie is gone in a flash and returns in a matter of second, sliding the ice cold-shot in front of me and smiles. I nod my thanks. My fingers wrap around the frosty glass, sending a slight shiver up my arm. I raise it up and lick my lips in anticipation, doing a silent, little prayer that just one shot will be all the help in the courage department I need.  Any more than that, and I will be on the floor.

"Are you sure you
wanna drink that?" an unfamiliar voice asks, stopping me dead in my tracks.

I turn, and I am staring into the most beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen. They twinkle and are so alive—they are the type of eyes a girl could easily get lost in. Those baby blues are dreamy. I have apparently gotten lost in those eyes, because Blue Eyes, that’s what I’m
gonna call him, brings me back to the here and now. "Are you okay?"

"Um, yeah, fine. Um, why shouldn't I take this shot?" I question, my brain still a little fuzzy as I give my wrist holding the shot a little twist.

"Well, I know what that brown elixir does to me, and you're half, if not a third my size, so... Plus, it tastes like shit." Blue Eyes smirks.

My heart skips a beat, and I can't help but smile at him. He makes me want to smile—a lot.

"Liquid courage," I explain my voice small.

"Liquid courage, for what?" he asks, concern lacing his tone.

"Um, the costume contest. Apparently, I've been entered," I respond, bringing the shot glass closer to my mouth, remembering the reason I got it in the first place.

His hand reaches out and stops me. Warmth spreads out from where his hand touches. It's soothing, calming. It makes me feel as though I don't need the shot—almost.

"Since when does a beautiful cavewoman need liquid courage? From what I've heard, cavewomen can kick some serious ass," Blue Eyes teases.

I contemplate his words. I roll them around in my head, trying to think of some snarky, flirty response to go along with his. He's flirting with me, definitely flirting, and I don't want it to stop. I like it—a lot—probably more than I should.

Okay, deep breaths and be flirty. I can do flirty.

"Well,
it's true…I do have mad ass skills."

Wait, what?

My eyes widen as my brain catches up with my mouth. Shit, I didn't say I have mad ass kicking skills, like I intended. I said I have mad ass skills. Oh my God, I am so fucking embarrassed. I need another shot, now.

Recover
,
Zoey, and cover up your stupid slip.

"Um, I mean…I have mad ass kicking skills, not mad…ass skills…
soooo…"

I lift my eyes to meet his, and when I do, there is amusement dancing in them, and his lips turn up into a delicious smile. Blue Eyes' eyes roam up and down me, and then he tilts his head and totally checks out my ass. His smile widens, and his eyes find mine again. "Well, I'd say you have mad skills in both the ass and ass-kicking areas—although I can only guess about the ass-kicking. I haven't seen those skills in action, but the mad ass skills? I can vouch that you most certainly do have skills in that certain area."

And he's back to flirting and has easily washed away some of my embarrassment, even though a new form of it has crept up, as I feel my cheeks heat up. He checked out my ass. Thank God I have been working out more lately—no thanks to Helga. Ever since I tried on this costume, I decided I needed to pump up my work-out routine, and Helga was more than happy to oblige. For whatever reason she got it in her head that I had come around to her way of thinking, and worked me over until I was clutching my sides and begging for her stop.  Helga just shook her head and chuckled and continued the torture. Before I went to her I thought my body was nice looking but not that
nice
looking, and I wanted to look even better, considering how much of
me
would be showing tonight. Those extra workouts are apparently paying off, but what a price to pay. Blue Eyes is still smiling and shakes his head, almost as if I've missed some joke.

"What?" I question my voice uncertain.

Blue Eyes shakes his head one last time before answering, "Nothing. I'm Griffin, by the way."

"
Zoey." I offer my hand, and it easily slips into his. I feel a rush of adrenaline spike through my veins. And as fast as that spike came, it leaves once my hand is no longer in his.

"So,
Zoey, even though we've established you have mad ass and ass-kicking skills, why are you entered in the costume contest if it makes you need liquid courage?" Griffin gestures towards my now empty shot glass.

"I don't think I have a choice, really." Honestly, I don't think Geoffrey is the type of guy to take no for an answer. Yep, he's definitely Ashlee's twin.

"Who roped you into this? Your girlfriend?
Boyfriend
?" The last word comes out of his perfect lips barely above a whisper.

"Although it is something my best friend, Ashlee, would do, she didn't. And I don't have a boyfriend, so it wasn't him. It was actually the host of this party, Geoffrey, who told me I was entered. It wasn't really a request—more of a demand, if that makes sense." The way Geoffrey told me I was in the
contest definitely gave me the latter impression.

"Say no more," Griffin chuckles, shaking his head.

"You know Geoffrey?"

I'm sure everyone here does, he's
kinda hard to miss.

"He's my neighbor. And you're right—it was a demand and not a request. Geoffrey can be very adamant about his demands, so you are definitely in the contest. But, no worries, you have your very own personal cheerleader, right here." Griffin's eyes
twinkle, and the smile on his lips makes my heart flutter.

"That's really sweet of you, thanks." I feel my cheeks heat up.

Griffin's hand reaches towards me, and my breathing hitches. It's almost as if he's moving in slow motion. Eventually, his fingers tuck a stray hair behind my ear. "It would be my pleasure to cheer on the hottest cavewoman here."