Page 2 of Love is Trash in Hallow's Cove

Her brows pinch together, and she points at my chest. “You’re leaning in a puddle of something.”

“Oh!” I look down to see that indeed I have a huge wet spot on my boob, and quickly grab a napkin to blot at it. “Thanks,” I laugh, but when I look back up, Harley has moved back over to the man at the other end of the bar.

Dammit. So much for that. She didn’t even finish making me another drink before she ran away.

It’s for the best. I doubt I’m going to catch the eye of a cute monster looking like I spilled a drink on myself.

With a resigned sigh, I dig out a few bills from my wallet, leaving an overgenerous tip despite the somewhat lackluster service. I wave goodbye to Harley as I slide off the bar stool I’ve made my home away from home for the past couple of weeks, cringing internally when she doesn’t look over at me.

The wind whips through my hair as I step out onto the street, and I wrap my arms around myself with a shiver. It’s spring, but the cool air coming in from over the cove makes the nights a lot brisker than they were back in Stonebridge. Like an idiot, I forsook bringing a jacket because I didn’t have one that matched my dress, so I have to hurry the handful of blocks back toward the bodega before I freeze my tits off.

The streets of downtown Hallow’s Cove are pretty quiet in the later hours of the evening, so at least I don’t have to keep up my perky, carefree demeanor as I curse and scurry home. I rush past the bookstore with a pang of jealousy as I think about Maisie, the woman who matched up with the bookstore’s vampire owner. I’ve chatted with her a few times around town and she seems really cool. But, I’m cool, too! If she can find her monster match, then why am I having such a hard time?

The lights are on at Gargoyle’s Horde, and I pray that no one inside looks up as I pass. My list of eligible monsters is rapidly dwindling, and I can’t stomach the thought of making yet another terrible impression tonight. Also, that’s where I found out that the cute satyr who I’d been on a few dates with wasn’t twenty-four like he told me, but nineteen and fresh out of high school.

I shudder again, this time not from the cold.

This would all be so much easier if people in Hallow’s Cove used dating apps, but with the lack of cell signal here, it’s not an option. Besides, a lot of monsters don’t need that kind of help. They meet the person they’re meant to be with and justknow.

That’s what happened with Aunt Betsy. My chronically single aunt ended up finding the love of her life when she visited Hallow’s Cove a year ago. According to her, her eyes met with a beautiful naga across Main Street, and everything else melted away. She knew right away that she was meant to be with this monster. Love at first sight, or sniff, or however it works, is a real thing for some monsters.

God, it’s so romantic. Seeing how deeply Betsy fell and how happy she is now made all the silly hopes I had for falling in love as a kid seem not so ridiculous. She’s the reason I’m here in Hallow’s Cove, currently freezing my ass off after yet another night of fruitlessly looking for my match.

Aunt Betsy offered me a job working at the bodega she runs with her wife, Ssthress, while they’re off on an extended honeymoon. When she asked, I saw it as a sign. What better way to move on from a string of dead end relationships and cheating exes than with someone completely different? Someone who respects the bond between partners. Someone who won’t scoff at my desire to build a life together. A partner to do all the domestic shit that I’m supposed to not like because it isn’t edgy or cool, but that I want so badly I cry myself to sleep wishing for it.

Moving to Hallow’s Cove was supposed to help with the pain of my ex cheating on me. I lost everything when Sandy fucked Jason—my girlfriend of over a year, my job since that dick was my manager at the boutique I workedat, and our small circle of friends who all took Sandy’s side even though she’s the one who cheated.

Monsters seemed like the answer to my relationship troubles, but I’m starting to think that the problem is me. Maybe I’m not mate material. This fresh start is getting more stale with each passing day. I can’t give up hope yet, but damn, it’s pretty hard to not wonder what the hell I’m doing that’s such a turnoff.

The lights are still on in the bodega, and Eddie, one of the teen wolf shifter triplets that works for my aunts, is dutifully stocking the shelves. Two of the three shifters are practically identical, but Eddie has a small notch in his half-shifted lupine ear, making it easy to tell him apart from his brother. We exchange a friendly wave as I head past him, since I know he’s not one for small talk, and head into the back of the shop and up the staircase to the apartment on the second floor.

Even with my aunts being away for almost a month, the scent of patchouli hits me when I unlock the door. I’m grateful that they’re letting me stay at their place rent-free while I figure out my life, but their apartment is like a hippie fever dream. I’ve done my best to tidy up the chaotic melange of incense holders, macrame throws, and crystals, in an attempt to make the place a little more appealing for a potential suitor, but I swear the scent is baked into every fiber of the place.

I head into the bedroom and strip out of my dress, tossing it into the hamper even though it should be dry cleaned. Who cares? There’s no dry-cleaner in Hallow’sCove, and it’s not like anyone is looking my way, even in my sexiest dress.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the large mirror across from the bed and frown. I’ve gotten used to the weird placement, though I didn’t need the knowledge that Aunt Betsy and her new wife like to watch themselves in bed. That’s nothing compared to the stash of weird sex toys I stumbled upon during a cleaning spree.

My reflection stares back at me as I shake the memory of the double-ended wriggling tentacle from my mind. I don’t get it. I’m hot! My curves were a source of bullying as a kid, but I love them. There’s no reason why a cute monster wouldn’t see me and be smitten. Yet, here I am, alone once again, staring at myself in my lucky panties instead of having some hottie from the bar peeling them off with their teeth.

Yes, I know it’s ridiculous to think a pair of underwear is lucky, but I’ve worn these every time I met someone special. I saw them in the drawer when I was getting dressed for my outing to the bar tonight, and something inside me told me it was time to break them out.

Ugh, maybe that’s why tonight hurts more than usual. I’m so hopeless that even my lucky panties can’t help me.

I bend over to dig out a pair of sweatpants from the dresser, and as I’m standing up, I notice something out of the corner of my eye. I move closer to the mirror, turning to the side to get a better look.

There’s a huge hole in the pink lace around the waistband of my underwear. I touch the spot in horror, tears pricking my eyes. It’s way too big for me to fix. A fewheavy tears roll down my cheeks as I tug the torn panties off and throw them on the bed with a frustrated huff.

Dammit, I shouldn’t cry over a pair of panties, but they’re special. I can’t help but see their ruined state as a harbinger of doom for my already shitty love life.

Shoving on my sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, I grab the panties and storm back downstairs. I almost collide with Eddie in my hurry, and he cocks his head inquisitively at me as he ties off the trash bag in his hands.

“I’ll take that out. You can go home,” I say, shoving the balled up panties into my pocket, and grabbing the trash bag from his hands.

“Oh. Okay. Thanks,” Eddie says, confusion still clear as he takes in my runny mascara. “Are you okay?” he asks tentatively, and it takes all my willpower not to confess all my fears and frustrations to this poor teen who doesn’t want or need to know that information about his temporary manager.

“I’m fine!” I say, voice too cheery as I force a smile on my face. “Have a good night, Eddie!” I head out the door into the alley before he can say anything else or see the fresh tears that are welling in my eyes.

The dim alleyway between our building and the shop next door is thankfully empty. I heave the trash bag into the shared dumpster, then fish out the cursed panties from my pocket.

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