Page 5 of One Killer Night
“Where?” he rushes out, looking over his shoulder, but I’m already spinning back toward the shelf, a bit more flustered than when I started this journey.
I look back over my shoulder apologetically while simultaneously grabbing all the tubes of fake blood. Instantly, I realize I don’t have a basket, so I just start shoving them down the neck of my costume, letting them fall all the way to my legs.
Screw it, I’ll sort it out at the counter.
“Sorry. Not here. At her apartment. I was on a time crunch because of the decapitated head. From the dead body she made ...”
The smile on his face hasn’t left as he nods, even as he dives his hands into his front pockets and says, “Relatable. Um, soooo ... okay.” He points at my now-bulging dinosaur ankles. “I guess I’ll leave you to your prehistoric shoplifting. It was nice meeting you.”
No. Damn. I was doing the flirting thing so well. I’m mid-grab when very unqualified words tumble out because I can’t let the guy let me get away. But what I’m doing, I don’t know. This is cool-girl territory. I typically belong to a different region.
Fuck it. I’ve already almost killed an old couple from shock, embarrassed myself plenty in front of the hottest man alive, and I’ll probably end up on YouTube, branded as a furry getting arrested for theft.
I literally have nothing to lose. I need to shoot my Jurassic shot.
I drop the last tube down the front of me and spin toward him.
“Hey, there’s this party if you wanna come ... I mean, you did say you’re free. And I owe you for helping me out and all. Even though we’re complete strangers, serendipitously meeting in aisle nine of Walgreens.”
The look on his face is either wholly captivated by my charm or scared for his life, so I add, “Plus, you’re already wearing a costume.”
Neither of us even tries to hide our smiles as his eyes drop to his front because Noah is, in fact, wearing a jacket, jeans, and a T-shirt.
“We’re in aisle twelve,” he muses before rocking back on his heels. “You’re a strange girl—”
On any other day, I might be insulted, but he says it like it makes him more curious about me. And I’ll take it.
“—and honestly, it’s fitting that something unexpected would happen to me tonight.”
I shrug coyly, biting my lip. “So, I guess it’s fate, then.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he reaches into his back pocket again, pulls out his phone, and hands it over. I. Am. A legend.
“Put your number in?”
I can’t stop the cyclone of butterflies in my stomach as I stare at the screen, typing in my information before I return his phone. He taps it against his palm, his face mirroring what I’m feeling before he reads what I’ve entered.
“Rexy ...? Didn’t want to go with your name, huh?”
“Figured I’d cover my tracks just in case I got predatory later.”
He laughs before quietly sucking in a breath through his teeth, his eyes dropping over my costume. Noah gives a small headshake before he turns and speaks over his shoulder.
“Have fun, Goldie. Don’t get arrested.” He holds up his phone. “I’ll text you once I walk away—you know, so I seem cool and aloof.”
I swish-swish back a few steps, my legs heavier because of all the bloody tubes inside my costume. But as I watch him walk away, I can’t help myself, and I check out his ass.Nice.
The smile on my face grows because just as my eyes pop up, he glances back again, so I raise a claw, giving him a small wave, trying to act nonchalant and not like a perv.
“Yeah. I mean ... I won’t hold my breath because I’m also aloof and cool. So, like, cool, whatever.”
Right on cue, I step on the stuff I knocked down earlier with my tail, tripping over my own feet before regaining my ground.
My hand slaps over my mouth to hide my giggle, and I smartly stand in place, watching him leave the whole rest of the way down the aisle until he turns the corner, out of sight.
Holy. Shit.
I can’t help myself. My hands hit my knees as I give a little celebratory dino twerk because I freaking hate Halloween, always have, but tonight might just be the best night of my life. I barely get that thought out before the ding hits.
