“Think you’ll have hands for a couple of bottles for me?” Greg asked.
She smiled. “Sure.”
He scanned the platform stacked with bottles. “Grab me a bottle of Grey Goose and a couple bottles of Juarez.”
She shuddered. “Why anyone would drink well tequila is beyond me.”
He snickered. “That’s how you end up waking up in a stranger’s bathtub.”
Bayleigh giggled and trotted off, and I moved to stand next to Greg, lining up shot glasses. “So funny that you guys match tonight. Did you plan that?” I asked, playing dumb.
“No.” I could hear him smiling from under his mask. “Most girls would pick Mary Jane, but I always preferred Gwen. She was the sweet one — Mary Jane at the time was kind of shallow, but Gwen … she was the good girl.”
I pursed my lips, trying not to smile.
“Plus,” he said as he arranged liquor bottles in the order he wanted, “I have respect for girls who wear costumes that aren’t all spandex and boobs. There really is a sad lack of costumes for chicks that aren’t slutty, and I hate the slutty ones.”
I raised a brow.
He chuckled and pulled up his mask. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind looking. I just hate that it’s the norm for you guys. Like, that you feel obligated to look sexy. Personally, I think it’s sexier when it’s not all legs and cleavage.”
“Like sexy marshmallow! Or sexy hot dog! Or sexy unicorn!”
Greg shook his head, smiling. “Last Halloween, I saw a chick dressed up like sexy corn. Corn. She was wasted, running around the bar screaming ‘Shuck it!.’”
I snorted. “Oh, my God.”
“That same bar had a costume contest, and the girl who won was just wearing lingerie.”
My head tilted. “So … sexy … sex machine?”
“I guess. She walked around all night in heels, fishnets, a corset, and panties.”
“Original.”
“So, yeah. I respect a girl who doesn’t think the only way to get a guy is to strut around almost naked, dressed up like a slutty vegetable.”
“Well, Bayleigh definitely isn’t the slutty vegetable type.”
He laughed. “No, definitely not. She’s too good for that. I’m surprised she doesn’t have a boyfriend.”
I smiled. “Me too. Maybe that’ll change sooner than later.”
He glanced over, smiling again. “Maybe so.”
Bayleigh rounded the corner with her arms full of lemons and bottles, but three steps in, her shoe caught on the bar mat, and her eyes flew wide as she began to topple over. In one swift motion, Greg stepped in front of her and caught her. She fell into him — his arms were just under hers, which still cradled her loot, and she looked up at him with starry eyes and bated breath.
My nerd heart fluttered at the sight of Gwen in Spidey’s arms, and I leaned forward, waiting for them to kiss.
“You okay?” he asked, looking down at her.
She nodded, cheeks flushed. “Thank you,” she said softly.
Greg stood her up, making sure she was stable before stepping back. “Anytime.”
He took the bottles from her and moved to the bar, putting his back to us, and Bayleigh and I shared a grin. Her cheeks were still pink as she set down her lemons and smoothed her skirt, smiling down at her hands while she finished cutting the fruit.
The bar began to fill up not long after, and by eight-thirty, the place was pumping. Most of our staff turned up to party, even Warren the grump was dressed up like the Green Goblin, which matched his scowl perfectly. Well, everyone was partying except for Ruby, who wasn’t old enough to drink. Instead, she stayed in the front with the bouncer and Jett, passing out tiny capes and masks to people who came without costumes. Jett was set up at the table with her, handing out name tags. Everyone was instructed to write their name, drink of choice, and a book on their to-be-read list. Jett composed a master list, rounded up all the books, and put them on a book cart near the bar. Anyone could buy a book and a drink for the single they had their eye on for fifty percent off at the bar.
Books and booze. What reader could refuse? None, that’s how many.
I made my rounds, chatting with our crew and some of our regulars. I found The Reader and Batman — she was dressed up as Kagome from InuYasha, and he wore a kilt and tunic, though with his dark hair, he resembled Roger Wakefield more than Jamie Fraser. But either way, he looked amazing. They both did. She’d dressed up just over excitement from chewing through two books in a day, and he’d come dressed up for her, hoping she would be there.
See? Satisfying. I told them I wouldn’t at all be opposed if they named their first baby Cameron. Girl or boy, didn’t matter.
A little while later, I mixed everyone up, splitting them into teams for the trivia games based on their costumes. It was always literary trivia that covered all forms of fiction, including comics and graphic novels, so each team would hopefully have a variety of knowledge to pool from. After an hour of trivia games headed up by me, we turned up the music again, and just as I’d suspected, almost everyone stayed all mixed up with their groups, mingling with strangers well after the game was over.
I’d just set down my master game pad behind the bar when I looked up to find Tyler walking in.
Everything stopped for just one long moment.
We’d taken a different approach to his costume than the spandex route, dressing him up as Steve Rogers in a bomber jacket, cargo pants, and combat boots, with an old-timey military helmet. He wore a Captain America shirt under his jacket, which zipped part of the way, and he carried a shield we’d made him out of a trashcan and spray paint, which turned out pretty badass, I have to say. He was tall — so tall — his smile straight out of a dream or a toothpaste commercial, his jaw made out of stone cut to perfection. He waved at me, and I blinked, smiling as I waved back.