Ghost (The Halloween Boys #1) (20)



“Hey, Blue dot,” a tall, muscular man with long brown hair pulled into a low ponytail jeered. He poured two paper cups of coffee and walked toward me.

Ames shot him a death glare and the guy chuckled. I looked to Dr. Cove. “Blue dot?”

“Inside joke,” he replied through gritted teeth.

I accepted the coffee from the smirking guy, noticing the golden wisps throughout his gorgeous wavy hair. He was beefy, with sun-kissed bronze skin. Black tribal tattoos curled around his thick biceps. It was an effort not to gawk. He was gorgeous. Ames cleared his throat, sounding annoyed for some reason. “This is my buddy who apparently really wants his ass kicked.”

The muscled gorgeous guy scoffed, “That didn’t work so well for you last time, did it?” He directed his attention to me. “Since my friend here has apparently forgotten how to act around a lady, I’ll introduce myself. Hello, I’m Wolfgang Jack, but everyone calls me Wolf.”

Wolf felt like an intuitive and appropriate name for him.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Blythe Pearl,” I replied softly, letting his massive hand swallow mine in a shake. Then it occurred to me. “Hey, you’re the journalist. I read your article on Hallows Fest the other day.”

“Wow, look at that, Wolf. One person reads your ramblings,” the familiar voice sounded as he made his way nearer.

Then I pieced it together. “Onyx? From this morning?”

“Yes, ma’am. Great job tiptoeing down the hallway like we couldn’t sense you the moment you stood outside.” He winked a dark-green eye and grabbed a Danish. He’d unbuttoned his collared shirt, giving him a sexy, ruffled look.

A rush of heat invaded my cheeks.

Wolf elbowed him in the ribs. “Dude, stop being weird to the one person who reads my shit.”

“Technically, I only read one article, and to be honest, I skimmed it,” I replied, staring down into my bitter coffee.

Silence spanned a beat before laughter erupted. It shook the dust from the rafters it was so loud. When was the last time I made a joke? It felt nice. And their reaction was like a warm blanket on my heart. I couldn’t help but smile and let out a giggle myself at their collective merriment. Ames put a hand on my shoulder. “You’re going to fit in just fine, kid.”

Kid. There was that word again. That was all he saw me as. A child.

We all took our seats in cold metal folding chairs arranged in a circle. It just occurred to me that I didn’t know what to even say here. But I felt comfortable with them. Even though we’d just met, it felt like we’d all known each other forever, as cheesy as that sounds. Or maybe my lack of real human connection from years of running was finally catching up with me. My daydreams were getting harder to control and definitely getting worse. I almost forgot where I was for a moment while changing clothes earlier.

“Welcome to support group,” Ames began, crossing an ankle over his knee. “This is an open forum. We chat about whatever. But whatever we say stays within this group.” He was wearing black jeans and a V-neck black T-shirt. I couldn’t help but notice his sculpted arm as he raised his mug to those perfect lips. God, I needed to get laid before I died. These men were sending me into a frenzy. I pushed out the fantasy that was trying to shove its way into my mind. Later, I told myself. “I thought we could talk about self-care today. Things that can be done to help ease the stress and tension that post-traumatic stress can bring on.”

Onyx made a noise and Wolf gave him a rough shove, causing the chair to shriek at the movement. Ames stared daggers at his friends while I suppressed my grin with a sip of dark roast. I knew how I’d like to relieve some tension . . . .I forced another daydream out.

Onyx spoke up. “Like what, Ames, things like following your passions? Pursuing your dreams—”

Wolf kicked his shin, eliciting a groan and a laugh from the green-eyed trickster. Onyx removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, revealing a scaly tattoo wrapping around his arm and disappearing up his sleeve. When I glanced up, he was looking straight at me, suddenly serious. I quickly flicked my glance away and back to Ames.

“If you assholes don’t take this seriously, I’m kicking you out,” he said with a quirk of his lip. Honestly, I would have been fine with just sitting and watching them all goof off. There was something comforting in their brotherly banter. Ames reached over, putting a hand on my knee, and my heart stopped. “Sorry, I told them to behave.”

Tearing my gaze away from his blue stare back to my coffee, I swallowed. “No, it’s okay. I like it.” I could feel the warmth spreading across my cheeks and hoped my meager makeup was enough to at least make it a little unnoticeable. His hand retracted and I wanted to whine for it back. My knee pulsated, my inner thigh cold and screaming for more. One more touch like that, please.

Wolf spoke, taking a bite of pastry. “What do you do for fun, Blythe? Tell us about yourself.”

“She’s damn good at crosswords, I know that.” Onyx grinned, shooting me another wink. My heart fluttered. God damn.

Fiddling with my thumbs, I felt their attention fixate onto me. I hoped my dress looked okay. “I’m not sure I’ve ever done anything for fun, if I’m honest. I wanted to be a therapist or a social worker, but college wasn’t in the cards for me. I don’t stay in once spot long enough.” I shrugged. “I like music, even if Dr. Cove seriously doubts my musical tastes.” I dared to shoot him a playful glance. The corner of his lip quirked in the sexiest way. I could tell he wanted to say something back but instead stayed quiet, still giving me the floor, letting me speak at my own pace. It was probably just a therapy trick, but it made the butterflies in my belly flutter all the same. In my experience, most people spoke over the quiet girls. “Running from state to state doesn’t leave room for many friends or hobbies.” When I worked the nerve to look up, I expected to see smirks or eye rolls. Oh, poor little Blythe. Or maybe they’d poke fun at my lack of social skills and friends. I couldn’t maintain eye contact for anything. But what I saw etched on each of their expressions took my breath away. Onyx’s and Wolf’s expressions were steely, jaws tense as they listened. Wolf straightened with a loud exhale and ran a hand through his hair, as if he’d just had a tense internal conversation with himself and came out angry. Onyx’s deep emerald gaze looked to be plotting, sorting through the Rubik’s Cube of my predicament.

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