Goosewinked and said, “We're all hiding something, remember?”
“That'swhat you think.”
“That'swhat Iknow.”
Ismirked, then asked, “Are you seeing her for Halloween?”
Witha forlorn sigh, he shook his head. “She's going to Salem with her mom thisyear. It sucks'causeit's the first year I don'tactually have anything going on.”
“Youand your girlfriend aren't doing anything?”
“Nah,”he muttered with a sigh, disappointment heavy in his tone. “She's been reallybusy with her job.”
Ihadn’t initially planned on doing anything other than hanging out at theapartment with Brendan, watching scary movies and bingeing on junk food. Butnow, seeing the letdown written clearly on Goose’s face, the potential for aninvitation hung wide open in the air. We got along so well, and I knew we couldhave a lot of fun together, but the risk of making it all awkward seemed too great.And what if Brendan or Goose's girlfriend had a problem with it? Was the chanceof an argument worth it?
So,I treaded lightly as I approached the question. “If it's not a problem withher, maybe we could do something. I’m sure Brendan wouldn’t mind if you hungout with us.”
Ibraced myself, worried he’d immediately shoot me down. The worry that I’d haveto find somewhere else to do my writing weighed heavily against my shoulders,and I was scared to look at him. Scared that the invitation to be a third wheelwould disgust him so much, I’d feel the immediate urge to leave. But when Ieventually did, I found that the moody atmosphere had brightened with the helpof his infectious smile.
“Yeah,that'd be cool. I'll let you know what she says.”
Weexchanged numbers, and like a kid whose been given an invitation to DisneyWorld, I rushed home to ask if it was okay.
WhenI brought it up to Brendan and explained the situation, he didn't ask anyquestions or seem at all suspicious or territorial. He simply shrugged and toldme it didn't matter if I had company, because he was going to be busy, anyway.Which was news to me.
“Wait,what do you mean? I thought we were going to watch movies?”
Henodded from behind his phone. “Yeah, I know. But the office is offeringovertime, so I figured I’d grab it while I had the chance.”
Itshould have hurt or been a topic of contention between us, because why wouldn’the have said something sooner? But I didn't say a word, because all it meantwas, I could spend my favorite holiday with my new favorite friend.
Alone.
Chapter Nine
We metat the stone entrance of the cemetery, on what was a chilly and dreary Halloweenevening. I was dressed entirely in my appropriately favorite color—black—and sowas Goose. He wore an old leather jacket and black jeans, with scuffed DocMartens on his feet, that were a perfect match to the ones I wore. He lookeddifferent without his signature button down and vest. Different but good.
Sogood.
Hetook a moment to take in my long-sleeved t-shirt, on display beneath my opencardigan, and laughed. “Very cute,” he complimented, smiling brightly in thedark night.
Iglanced down at the rib cage design, complete with a skeletal baby over thebelly. “Thanks,” I said. “I’ve always wanted to buy one of these, but I wasnever able to because, you know, I wasn’t pregnant.”
Weheaded through the iron gate and were instructed to wait for our group to beready to leave. The sun was setting fast and the bite in the air had me dancingon the spot and wishing I’d worn something warmer. Goose turned to face me, hishands stuffed into his jacket pockets, as he watched my jig with furrowed brows.
“You’recold,” he assessed.
“Nah,I always do this when I’m about to tour a cemetery.”
“You’relying.”
Thewind blew, whipping my hair and slicing through my shirt, and my teethchattered as I nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am definitely lying.”
Withouthesitation, Goose unzipped his jacket, revealing a black sweater, tight enoughto emphasize the definition in his arms. “Take this,” he instructed, pullinghis arms from the sleeves.
“You’llfreeze.”
“No,I won’t.”