Page 42 of Pinch
“Did you make them?” My eyebrow arches.
“You know it!” He grins, handing me a cup. “And there’s purple drink in the Ninja.”
“You’ve been warned.” Gina whispers in my ear, and I turn to see she’s wearing a long greenish-black wrap-dress, and her hair is in thick spiral curls all around her head with little google eyes attached to the ends.
“Are you…?” I frown, unsure.
“Medusa, of course!” She holds up a platter with a tiny jack-o-lantern on it.
The mouth is open, and a massive amount of guacamole is pouring out like vomit. She has a big bowl of blue-corn tortilla chips in her other hand.
“If I didn’t know that was delicious, I’d barf,” I laugh.
“Let’s do this!” She puts the appetizers on the table laden with food and scoops up two Jell-o shots.
We do them together, and I realize the eyeball is made of chewing gum. “It burns!”
“Purple drink for the princess and one for the Gorgon.” Mav puts two insulated cups in our hands, and continues to greet the gang pouring through the front door.
Halloween music blasts through the speakers, and I laugh, scanning the room for Han Solo. He’s near the entrance to the kitchen, and of course his blue eyes are locked on me.
My stomach tingles, and I make my way through the crowd of hockey players, neighbors, and friends to where he’s standing with his arm propped on the door jamb.
“Hey.” He leans down to me.
“How are you liking your first Halloween party in LA?”
“Not bad.” He grins, arching an eyebrow and giving the room a quick sweep before returning his attention to me. “How about you?”
“It’s my favorite party of the year.” I hold up my cup of purple drink. “Have some.”
“I think I will.” He takes the metal cup from my hand.
Snapping my gum, I’m feeling sassy from the shots and the purple drink and the music. I’m feeling like it’s Halloween, the holiday where anything goes. Where you’re supposed to be naughty.
“You take that one, and I’ll get another.”
I slide past him into the kitchen, and he places his back against the wall, watching me as I pass.
“One for you.” Maverick hands me a solo cup this time filled with purple drink. “I expect to see you making out with somebody before the night’s over.”
He elbows me in the side, grinning as he not so subtly tilts his head in the direction of his friend behind me.
Without missing a beat, I take a sip of my drink. “I’d just as soon kiss a Wookie.”
“Or Han Solo.” My cousin points a finger at me. “I can arrange that.”
12
Gavin
Purple drink is no joke. Hell, I don’t know what Maverick puts in it, but halfway through the night, it looks like the whole gang is hammered. Except Haddy. She’s holding what looks like a glass of her “special lemonade,” and I grin, watching her work the crowd.
She’s so poised and pretty. She really is a natural at this princess thing.
I’ve held myself to the one cup she gave me, and a few Jell-O shots. We’ve got to play tomorrow, and I’ve got my sights set on my Princess Leia across the room.
She turns, and our eyes meet. I lift my chin, and she nods for me to come on over… just as Donovan slams into me, dumping frozen alcohol all down the front of my shirt.
