Page 35 of Betrayed Pregnant Mate

They’re watching Rosa, Olivia, and Veronica dance together. Despite the fact that I know neither of them is particularly interested in Veronica, I can’t help the flare of protectiveness that pushes through me.

“Hey, man,” Bigby says when I walk up, and Byron’s head snaps over, his eyes meeting mine.

“Hey,” he says, his voice tight. “Uh, weird question, but do you know where Veronica got that dress?”

“Why?” I joke, accepted a black paper cup from Bigby, and taking a sip. Apple cider. “You looking for the same one?”

He rolls his eyes as Bigby lets out a loud hoot, drawing the attention of several tourists, some of which point and whisper. Bigby is always drawing attention for his size, and I even heard someone tell him his “costume was really dope” one year, which is something I never let him live down.

“Sorry, man,” I say, when Bigby has calmed down enough that I can hear again. “I have no idea.”

I wish I knew, so I could give them a hug. Or maybe punch them across the jaw. I haven’t decided yet—that dress looks so good, but it also led to what happened earlier, so maybe it’s just a draw.

We stand together, watching the girls dancing, when Aris appears, scowling.

“Hey,” he says, “you guys are pretty shitty security guards.”

“Not to be rude, man,” Bigby says, “but there’s one thing here I care about protecting more than the others. And I’m looking at it.”

“I’m flattered,” Aris says, which makes Byron laugh and Bigby roll his eyes. “But I can take care of myself. I really need you guys spread out so we can make sure there’s no threat here tonight—vampire or otherwise.”

“Yes, sir,” Byron says, giving him a salute. “This was getting boring anyway.”

“Speak for yourself,” Bigby says, swallowing down the last of his drink and crumpling the cup, before tossing it in a trash can. “I was having a great time.”

“Don’t you see her in a lab coat every day?” I ask, glancing at him, realizing for the first time that he’s wearing a matching lab coat with her. I’ve been so zoned out that I haven’t noticed my team member’s costumes—Aris in a matching pirate costume, Byron with his face painted like a cyborg, and Ado, across the plaza, wearing a large arrow, like the kind someone might spin around outside a business.

“What is Ado supposed to be?” I ask, scrunching my nose.

“I have no idea,” Aris says, “but if you figure it out, please tell me. He won’t spill, and he’s been waiting for someone to figure it out all night. Even Bigby and Rosa couldn’t get it. Now, seriously, come on, spread out, and stop watching the girls.”

We do as he says, splitting up and heading to opposite sides of the area like Ado’s been doing. When I find a spot with a good vantage point, Linnea steps onto the stage, tapping the microphone and speaking into it.

“Hello, everyone, and thank you so much for joining us on this beautiful October weekend. Let’s hear it for the band!”

Everyone claps, and she waits for it to die down before leaning in and speaking again.

“Right now, behind the stage, some of our volunteers are counting the votes for best costumes in the crowd. Later, we’ll have a formal costume contest for those of us who like to try our hardest, but we thought it would be fun to pick a few amateur costumers for the first prize of the night.”

She tosses her hair over her shoulder, and someone runs up onto the stage, handing her a card.

“Alright!” she says, taking a big breath. “Will numbers 42 and 331 please come to the stage? You are our winners for the in-crowd costume contest!”

I glance down at the number on my shirt and realize I’m number 331. When I look up, I see Veronica climbing the stairs, looking around for her co-winner. Of course—of course, it would be her, in that damn dress.

As I make my way to the stage, I watch her face for the moment she realizes it’s me, and wince at the shadow that passes over her features. I was right—she’s pissed at me for leaving earlier. Part of me wants to turn around and walk away. Another part of me reminds me that if we did it once, we could probably do it again, so I should work on winning her over again.

“Veronica,” I say when I finally reach the stage, but I’m drowned out by the sounds of the crowd roaring. Linnea grins at the two of us, and when Veronica frowns at her, I realize Linnea set this up. Meaning well, but forcing us together way too soon after what happened between us.

“As your prize, you get to be the first dance of the night during the slow dance!”

“That’s a prize?” I deadpan, and Veronica cuts her eyes to me. Of course, she heard me that time. Linnea leads us down off the stage, and the crowd clears the way for us, making a huge circle around us. We stop and come together, dancing like we’re at a religious summer camp, with more than a foot between our chests. Linne raises an eyebrow at me, but I avoid her look. The band starts to play a slow version of “Thriller” by Michael Jackson, which is so ridiculous that I have to laugh.

I can tell Veronica wants to laugh, too, but isn’t letting herself. I must have really pissed her off earlier by leaving like I did. I think about how she called my name as I was leaving a wince. I probably would have been pissed, too.

“Hey,” I say, but just then, the song ends, and a few other couples come into the space with us. Veronica takes that as an opportunity to leave, pushing through the crowd to get away from me. Despite myself, I push after her, feeling torn. I should give her space, but I should also give her an apology.

“Veronica, wait,” I say, tailing her through most of the festival, trying to catch her but unable to. Whenever I get close, someone steps in my path or obstructs my view. Finally, she bursts out of the crowd, heading a street over, which is quiet and practically deserted compared to where the tourists are congregated.

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