Page 83 of Wild

“What’s it look like?” Hollis asks, flicking the stuffed animalhedgehogVelcro-d to Cannon’s white t-shirt. In the back of his pocket is a set of drumsticks. I take in the sight of the rest of them. Fox—shirtless with a brown leather jacket and worn jeans riding low on his hips, a microphone clasped in one hand, a cigarette in the other. Rush wears a trulyawfulcurly black wig with a white t-shirt, black leather jacket, and jeans.

Finally, I look at Hollis.

Backwards baseball cap, white tee, light blue shirt tossed over it with the sleeves rolled up, and khaki pants.

“You didnotdress as my dad,” I groan.

He grins. “Yes, I did.”

“I’m going to kill you. Literally murder you in your sleep.”

Kira stands, holding up her phone. “I’msoposting this on Instagram. Smile. Or don’t. I don’t care.”

The guys lean in together and she snaps her picture.

“You won’t hurt me,” Hollis says. “You like me too much.”

I roll my eyes. “I wonder why.”

“You look hot as fuck—Poison Ivy, right?”

“You know your comics?” I raise a brow.

“A little bit. I used to be abitof a nerd when I was younger—then I discovered girls.” He shrugs.

“I can’t believe you’re going to make me leave this hotel with you dressed as mydad. You do realize how creepy this is right?”

“You say creepy, I say hysterical.”

“I should ditch your ass,” I grumble.

“Aw, you’d never leave me hot stuff.” He throws his arm around my shoulders playfully.

“I can’t believe I go all out with my costume and you dress as Joshua Hayes, my freakingfather.”

“Hey, I put a lot of effort into this,” he defends, as the group of us heads outside. He lets his arm drop and I instantly miss the warmth of his touch even if I know we have to watch ourselves in public settings.

“Mhmm, I’m sure it was extremely difficult to scrounge up all that.”

“It was, believe me, babe.”

“I need a drink,” I sigh.

“Isn’t that what a pub crawl is for?” he quips.

“Exactly.”

* * *

After two hoursof strolling around we end up at a restaurant a block up from the hotel. The back deck and patio area is packed with people dressed in all kinds of costumes. Zombies, Marvel characters, there’s even an Indiana Jones—but who’s getting the most attention of all? The dickwads dressed as Willow Creek. All night people have walked up, immediately knowing who they’re dressed as and remarking on the creativity of it, then asking for a picture.

Hollis keeps flashing me a smug smile every time it happens.

I, in turn, roll my eyes every time.

What’s worse is I know my dad and the other guys will get a kick out of this when they hear about it.

I don’t know what’s worse—Hollis gloating, or the inevitable gloating coming from my dad.

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