“Is that Barrett Mason? Shit, I haven’t seen him in a year. So much for you being the big chick magnet in the room, Rodeo. Oh, but I guess Rett is no longer available.”
“Damn right,” I said and swung open the door. “Dudes! You all came.” I motioned them inside. I looked up at Clutch. “Holy fucking hell, I forgot what a fucking beast you were.” I pointed up to his only piece of costume—a Viking’s helmet. “Perfect disguise, man. Never would have guessed it was you.” I turned to my roommates. “Rodeo, Denver, you already know Rett. This guy filling up the entryway is Rett’s brother, Jimmy, or Clutch as his friends call him, and over here are Nix and Dray.”
“Hey, how’s it going?” Nix was wearing a flannel shirt, jeans and a beanie.
“Let me guess—lumberjack?” I asked.
He smiled. “Uh, tattoo artist lumberjack, if you don’t mind.”
Dray was holding back a grin.
Nix rolled his eyes. “Shit, ask to see his costume before he explodes.”
Even though it was a warm night, Dray had on a black trench coat. It was wrapped shut by a loose belt.
I looked at the guys. “Tell me he’s got clothes on under that thing.”
Rett laughed. He’d pulled on a long cowboy duster and hat, and, as simple as it was, it would no doubt become an instant favorite among all the women, mostly because of the person under the hat. “Told you everyone was going to think you’re a flasher, Dray.”
“Shit,” Dray grunted in irritation, “you fucking people have no imaginations.” He untied the belt and yanked open the coat panels. A rubber alien, just like the famous stomach popping alien from the seventies classic movie, popped out.
I flicked the rubber alien face with my finger. “So much better than seeing you buck naked under that thing.”
I looked back out front. More people and plenty of the skimpy costumes Rodeo had been waiting for began streaming up the driveway. I looked at the guys. “Uh, aren’t you four missing your significant others.” I looked at Rett. “Where’s Fin?”
“Fin and the girls will be here. Eventually.”
“They were pissed that none of us were up for elaborate costume design,” Clutch added. “Taylor was sewing them all costumes.” He tapped his helmet. “We decided to do our own thing, and they’re doing theirs.”
Rett lifted the end of my cape. “Not sure who the hell you’re supposed to be, but I guess you aren’t planning to score tonight.”
“Fuck you. I can score wearing pajamas with little pink bunnies and a butt flap.” Rett and I had always been competitive when it came to women, but when he met my sister, Finley, he’d met his match. My brother, Jude, and I had given him a hard time in the beginning. Until we’d both realized we were just being overprotective, something we’d never gotten past as big brothers, especially because Finley had anxiety issues. She had always been vulnerable, and Jude and I had always watched over her when Dad was away, which was most of the time. Now Rett helped Finley at her rescue barn. Her relationship with Rett and spending her days helping rescued farm animals had saved her from the panic disorder that had kept her housebound for several years.
Dray tucked his alien back into his coat and looked around. “Two things, King.” He held up his fist. His knuckles, as usual, were swollen and bruised. He even had a nasty cut on one of them. Dray was an MMA fighter and a damn good one. He was smaller than his friends but far more lethal. He popped up one finger. It was twisted at an odd angle as if he’d broken it more than once. “Taco bar.” He popped up a second finger. “Foam pit.” He lowered his hand. “Not necessarily in that order.”
Denver and Rodeo had the door, so I motioned Dray and the others to follow me to the taco bar. The kitchen window looked out over the side yard where the ramp and foam pit were set up. I opened the blinds. “There’s the foam pit. Didn’t know you’d
“Damn right,” I said and swung open the door. “Dudes! You all came.” I motioned them inside. I looked up at Clutch. “Holy fucking hell, I forgot what a fucking beast you were.” I pointed up to his only piece of costume—a Viking’s helmet. “Perfect disguise, man. Never would have guessed it was you.” I turned to my roommates. “Rodeo, Denver, you already know Rett. This guy filling up the entryway is Rett’s brother, Jimmy, or Clutch as his friends call him, and over here are Nix and Dray.”
“Hey, how’s it going?” Nix was wearing a flannel shirt, jeans and a beanie.
“Let me guess—lumberjack?” I asked.
He smiled. “Uh, tattoo artist lumberjack, if you don’t mind.”
Dray was holding back a grin.
Nix rolled his eyes. “Shit, ask to see his costume before he explodes.”
Even though it was a warm night, Dray had on a black trench coat. It was wrapped shut by a loose belt.
I looked at the guys. “Tell me he’s got clothes on under that thing.”
Rett laughed. He’d pulled on a long cowboy duster and hat, and, as simple as it was, it would no doubt become an instant favorite among all the women, mostly because of the person under the hat. “Told you everyone was going to think you’re a flasher, Dray.”
“Shit,” Dray grunted in irritation, “you fucking people have no imaginations.” He untied the belt and yanked open the coat panels. A rubber alien, just like the famous stomach popping alien from the seventies classic movie, popped out.
I flicked the rubber alien face with my finger. “So much better than seeing you buck naked under that thing.”
I looked back out front. More people and plenty of the skimpy costumes Rodeo had been waiting for began streaming up the driveway. I looked at the guys. “Uh, aren’t you four missing your significant others.” I looked at Rett. “Where’s Fin?”
“Fin and the girls will be here. Eventually.”
“They were pissed that none of us were up for elaborate costume design,” Clutch added. “Taylor was sewing them all costumes.” He tapped his helmet. “We decided to do our own thing, and they’re doing theirs.”
Rett lifted the end of my cape. “Not sure who the hell you’re supposed to be, but I guess you aren’t planning to score tonight.”
“Fuck you. I can score wearing pajamas with little pink bunnies and a butt flap.” Rett and I had always been competitive when it came to women, but when he met my sister, Finley, he’d met his match. My brother, Jude, and I had given him a hard time in the beginning. Until we’d both realized we were just being overprotective, something we’d never gotten past as big brothers, especially because Finley had anxiety issues. She had always been vulnerable, and Jude and I had always watched over her when Dad was away, which was most of the time. Now Rett helped Finley at her rescue barn. Her relationship with Rett and spending her days helping rescued farm animals had saved her from the panic disorder that had kept her housebound for several years.
Dray tucked his alien back into his coat and looked around. “Two things, King.” He held up his fist. His knuckles, as usual, were swollen and bruised. He even had a nasty cut on one of them. Dray was an MMA fighter and a damn good one. He was smaller than his friends but far more lethal. He popped up one finger. It was twisted at an odd angle as if he’d broken it more than once. “Taco bar.” He popped up a second finger. “Foam pit.” He lowered his hand. “Not necessarily in that order.”
Denver and Rodeo had the door, so I motioned Dray and the others to follow me to the taco bar. The kitchen window looked out over the side yard where the ramp and foam pit were set up. I opened the blinds. “There’s the foam pit. Didn’t know you’d
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