Page 20 of All Hallows' Haunt
“Ahem,” someone cleared their throat. I turned my head toward the sound and saw a younger man holding sugar-covered tongs. His mouth was pinched together, and his cheeks were warm.
Twice now Everett had been interrupted.
“Hi,” he deadpanned, approaching the counter. I stayed a step behind him. “I would like one cinnamon roll,” he started. Then to me, he asked, “Cream cheese or regular frosting, baby?”
“Regular, thank you.”
“Regular frosting, and then can I get a cup of center swirls?” Everett took his phone out again.
“Anything else?” the guy asked. His nametag read Christopher.
“Two glasses of milk should finish it up.” He waited for him to finish keying in the order, and when Christopher read out the total, he waved his phone over the terminal. “All set,” he called back to me.
“Thank you, guys. Enjoy the haunt!”
Everett laced his fingers with mine and led me out of the dining space.
“Where are we going?” I questioned, but I wasn’t going to stop him. Every place he planned for us ended in euphoria.
“Trust me?”
“Always,” I blurted before really giving it any thought. I met him a few hours ago; there was no reason to trust and blindly follow him.
He led me down a hallway to a space labeled for employees only. It was dimly lit and quiet. Brown boxes were stacked along one wall. They were marked with kitchen labels and barcodes. Only a fridge and a white round table took up the rest of the space. It stirred the same feelings from the first office we found ourselves alone in.Off limits.
“Before your mind runs away with assumptions, I didn’t bring you here to fuck you.” He sat against the edge of the table and lifted his hands in invitation. “Come here,” he whispered.
I walked over to him and settled between his thighs. His hands rested on my sides, and his fingers massaged in slow circles. Touching Everett was like letting in an uncontrolled blaze. Everything flushed and ached in the wake of his contact. I held my hands over his chest, enjoying the way he felt beneath me.
“Hi,” I greeted, looking up to him with a big smile.
“Hi,” he returned, leaning in to take that kiss from earlier. His grip was firm but pleasurable, where his lips were light and soft. “I wanted more of those,” he said, taking another. “And less assholes named Christian.” He brushed another kiss against me, and the thought of correcting the guy's name died immediately.
“Everett, can I tell you something?” I asked. His hands skimmed my ribs. He hummed in response and pulled another slow kiss from me. My head spun. “I love kissing you,” I admitted. His first response was to trace his tongue along the seam of my mouth, followed by dragging his hands over my chest and up higher to cup my face.
“I love to kiss you.” He proved that point again before continuing, “I could kiss you all day—Iwantto.” He sighed against my parted lips. There was a shout for an order number, but I couldn’t focus on anything but him. “That’s us. Let’s get going. I have so much more I wanna do to your body.” He slid away from me and left me with a chill.
Everett walked to the entryway, and he looked happy enough, but there was an echo of dejection.
* * *
“Open,”he said before stabbing a piece of my cinnamon roll onto my fork. I opened for the bite, the same way I’d done the last fifteen times he asked. We sat outside, and performers moved through to scare patrons and make their rounds. Everett sat with his back facing the avenue. After washing down the last bite, I asked something that had bugged me for the last hour.
“Aren’t you expected to be somewhere?”
“What do you mean?” he questioned before scooping the last center out of his cup.
“Well, these scarers have worked in rounds. I saw that guy when we were getting cotton candy, and now he’s here.” I pointed to a burly man fashioned in a demon stag costume. Everett followed my hand but didn’t take him in for long.
“I’ve got it covered.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a concern, so I let the topic go for the time being.
“Do you have any hobbies?” I asked, shifting the conversation. He scraped the walls of his cup and gathered the icing onto his spoon. He smirked when he put it in my face.
“Lick,” he demanded. I swiped my tongue over the well of the spoon. “I do. I like to rebuild and restore cars. It takes time and money, but it’s quite rewarding. I mostly work on cars for people I know, friends in need, that sort of thing.” He gathered our trash and stood to dump it in the bin. “Would you like to see my favorite view?” His hand extended and his open palm invited me to take it. “Besides you, that is.”
“You are insatiable,” I said, taking his hand. The metal chair scraped against the concrete when I stood up, and Ev wasted no time hauling me behind him as he ran. I had no idea where we were going, but I found that I didn’t care because I’d be with him.
* * *
