Daydream: A Novel (The Maple Hills Series Book 3)
Chapter 18

“THIS IS NOT WHAT WE agreed,” Bobby snaps, looking Russ up and down.

“What happened to team spirit?” Mattie adds, planting his hands on his hips. “What happened to flavortown?”

Aurora scoffs as she repositions her ear headband. “Yeah, sorry guys. I’m not making out with Guy Fieri tonight. I have a boyfriend for the first time in my life. I’m doing cute couple shit on Halloween.”

“Your whiskers are smudged,” I point out to her. Russ blushes the way he does about everything, so I don’t bother telling him that he has whisker residue on his face. It doesn’t take a genius to work out why they’re late. “Why are you a mouse in a chef’s hat?” I ask Aurora.

“I’m Remy!” She looks offended, like she expects me to have any idea what she’s talking about. I think she recognizes the blank expression that’s no doubt on my face because she clarifies. “From Ratatouille! Russ is Linguini. And I’m a rat, not a mouse.”

“If I knew there were options outside of this I’d have taken them.”

“Where’s your bunny?” Aurora asks, looking around the group dressed in black flamed shirts, blond-spiked wigs, goatees, and sunglasses.

“Over there taking a call,” I say, nodding toward the wall outside The Honeypot, where Halle is flanked by Poppy and Emilia. Aurora has Halle’s new fake ID that is apparently indistinguishable from a real ID, so we’ve been waiting for her to turn up before heading in. “Her mom called because she missed the video call from her little sister in her trick-or-treat costume by accident earlier. I think she’s being yelled at.”

“How’s her outfit?” Aurora asks.

“We’re not talking about the outfit,” Kris answers before I can, stroking the fake facial hair stuck to his face like a Bond villain. “It’s the safest option for everyone involved.”

“That good?” Aurora blows out a breath. “You know I had to talk her out of being a clown.”

That good is the understatement of the century. I’ve never had a thing for fictional characters, but Halle as Space Jam Lola Bunny might have unlocked something in me. When she told me what she was wearing I assumed she’d wear a rabbit onesie similar to the Minion one I wore last year, maybe with a basketball uniform over the top.

I was only half right, and it wasn’t about the rabbit onesie.

Basketball uniform is also a stretch, since what she’s wearing is tiny shorts, a bunny tail, thigh-high socks, and a matching top.

Work and hockey interfered with us being able to catch up today after she got home from her ex’s place. The desperation to know what happened while she was with him for the first time in two months, coupled with how fucking good she looks right now, is not helping me make sense of my feelings about our friendship.

The fact that I haven’t gotten laid in forever also doesn’t help my judgment when I’m going to have to look at Halle’s curves and ass all night. God, I miss sex.

It’s not even that she looks fine; seeing how confident she got when everyone told her how great she looks makes me so proud of her. She thrives in a group setting, and I’m so relieved my friends have accepted her without question.

“Earth to Henry,” Aurora says, waving her hand in front of my face. “My God, those bunny ears are really doing a number on you. When are you going to accept that you have feelings for her and ask her out?”

Who did I piss off to end up with two interfering women in my life? “You know rats can’t speak, right?”

“Squeak squeak, bestie. Someone’s going to beat you to it.”

“Do you and Anastasia pass the torch between you for who gets to interfere in my life the most?” I ask, lowering my voice as I spot the girls approaching us. Anastasia and Lola were at our game earlier, and the first thing Anastasia asked me was where Halle was. Not sorry it was a tie not a win or wow, you’re so great at hockey. Thankfully, Lola admitted she didn’t make her morning coffee with a jersey on inside out and it allowed me to get the conversation off Halle.

“Yes.” Aurora grins, immediately turning to greet Halle, Emilia, and Poppy. She holds out the card to Halle. “I bring gifts.”

“Yeah, late,” Emilia grumbles, flicking her best friend on the forehead. “I’ve seen how many watches you own; why are you like this?”

“Would blaming a man be a suitable response?” she asks. “Because I’m totally down to blame Russ.”

Mattie comes up behind me, draping his arm across my shoulders as he looks Emilia and Poppy up and down. He uses the temple of his sunglasses to lift a strand of Emilia’s blond wig. “What are you two supposed to be?”

“They’re Dionne and Cher from Clueless,” I say, looking between the plaid-skirt-and-blazer combos. “I hate that I know that.”

“It’s like trying to herd cats,” Bobby groans, repositioning his sunglasses on the back of his head. He’s done nothing but brag about not needing to wear a wig since his hair is already blond. Between all our outfits, I think we’ve created a blond wig shortage in LA. “Okay, team Fieri and friends, we are moving toward the entrance. It’s going to be November before I get a fucking drink at this rate.”

I don’t know why I feel so nervous every time I go to The Honeypot when I know I get in every time. Daisy, Briar’s younger sister, took over the job when Briar graduated. We hooked up once and we’re cool when we see each other in the studio. Like her sister, she’s happy to let us in on the basis we don’t cause any scenes.

I’m doing this for the team. A good leader is there for the wins and losses, and ties in this case. I’m doing this for the team, even though I really don’t want to. Everything I’ve read said I need to make the best of a bad situation, to replace the good in the not so good, so that’s what I’ll try to do tonight when I’d rather be at home.

Aurora booked the table so she goes first into the booth and the rest of us follow. The DJ is playing R&B and not the repetitive techno stuff that makes my head feel like it’s going to explode, so that’s a good in the bad. I might even be able to enjoy tonight if the music doesn’t change.

Daisy stops right in front of me on her way out of the booth, tilting her headset mouthpiece up. She moves onto her tiptoes to bring her mouth to my ear. “I like the shirt. If you’re still here at closing, replace me.”

She’s gone before I even have a chance to think of a response, a flash of blond hair and long legs as I watch her head back to her post at the entrance. When I look back at the booth, Halle’s watching me with Poppy. Halle gives me a tight smile, then immediately looks away. Poppy doesn’t look away, and it’s in this accidental staring match that I realize how much she reminds me of my mom sometimes.

It could be how sweet-natured she is, with similar shades of the same kind, hazel eyes. Or that they have a similar rich brown skin tone and long micro-braided dark hair. It’s probably that they glare at me in the exact same way when I’ve done something wrong, though.

I’m not interested in Daisy, but maybe that isn’t obvious to people who aren’t me. I smile at Poppy, but it seems like the charm everyone claims I have doesn’t work on people who don’t like men, given she whispers something to Emilia and I see her roll her eyes.

“I don’t understand women,” I shout to Robbie over the music as I drop myself into the seat beside him out of everyone’s line of sight.

“I’d be more worried for you if you thought you did,” he responds, rolling himself to the edge of the table, making his drink then pouring me a soda before maneuvering back to the spot beside me. I know Halle is worried people will think she’s boring for not getting drunk. They won’t, but if they do, they can think I’m boring, too. “You have two goals this year. Pass your classes and don’t get on Faulkner’s bad side. The rest you can worry about some other time.”

I’m listening to Robbie drunkenly explain how we’re definitely going to win next week when Aurora reappears at the entrance to the booth with someone I wasn’t expecting to see tonight.

“What’s Ryan Rothwell doing here?” Robbie asks, looking at me in confusion.

Aurora immediately waves Russ over, and by the fact they do that friendly but borderline awkward handshake Ryan and Nate do, I’d bet that Ryan knows Aurora in the way he seems to know every other woman in the United States. I look a few booths down and recognize some players from the LA Rockets, the NBA team Ryan plays for, with Kitty Vincent and some people I don’t know.

I shrug in response to Robbie’s question. “Looks like he knows Aurora.”

Aurora waves Halle over, and as soon as she’s close enough Ryan starts talking to her.

Halle starts laughing, and I’ve never experienced jealousy so quickly in my life. Robbie is watching just as closely as I am. “Does he know Halle?”

I’m confident as I say, “Halle doesn’t know anyone.”

Why is everyone laughing? What’s so funny that’s making everyone so happy? I’m about to get up and walk over, but then Aurora moves out of my line of vision, and I realize that Ryan’s dressed as Space Jam Bugs Bunny and has the outfit to match Halle’s.

Robbie takes a long sip from his drink in my peripheral vision. “It looks like he’s trying to get to know Halle. They’re basically wearing a couple’s costume.”

“What do I do?” I ask him. I’ve never needed advice with women before, but I’ve never cared about who someone talks to before or after me.

“That depends on if you want to sit back and let Ryan take your girl or do something about it. He’s capable of it. The guy must have a magic dick.”

“She isn’t my girl. She’s my friend.”

“I don’t get you,” Robbie says, leaning closer so I can hear him better. “I’d get it if you said you wanted to hook up with other people so you don’t want to start something with her, but I haven’t seen you bring anyone home in—fuck, I don’t know. Have you brought someone home this year?”

“How do you know the difference between liking someone as a friend but being attracted to them, and them being someone you want to have a relationship with? How do you even know when you’re ready for a relationship with anyone?”

“Oh boy. Where’s Jaiden when you need him? You’ve just gotta take the chance, I guess. Look, I’m not good at this kind of stuff. Uh, imagine your friendship with her stays the same, you still spend time together as much as you do now, but Ryan goes home with her tonight. Next week it might be someone else taking her out on a date, but at the same time, you’re still doing whatever the fuck it is that you two do that makes you wanna be with each other every minute of your spare time. How would you feel?”

“Jealous.”

“Or the not as nice side of that is she doesn’t have as much time for you anymore.”

“She wouldn’t do that,” I argue. I feel like I know Halle. She wouldn’t drop me for a guy.

“How much time do you spend with Stas now that you’re friends with Halle? I’m not trying to make you feel bad, man, but relationships change things for people. Do you know someone asked Halle for her number yesterday? And she spent last night at her ex’s house. What’s it going to take for you to step up and do something about your feelings?”

He says it like it’s so obvious, but in reality I didn’t realize I had feelings for her until very recently, and I’m still working to get my head around it. Robbie is right, though, even though I might not like his delivery.

When I look back over to Halle, she’s taking a photograph with Ryan, and they look really good together. I hate how good they look together. I hate the idea of her getting experiences from other people. I don’t want her to look at other people the way she looked at me when I won her that fucking ridiculous duck at the pier. Or any of the other shit I won for her.

Ryan drapes his arm across Halle’s shoulders while they pose as Aurora takes another picture of them, and it’s the nudge I need to do something about it.

“Whatsup, man. Love the costume,” Ryan says as I approach them. He pats me on the back in the friendly way I’m accustomed to. “Stassie not with you?”

“Not tonight. Her parents are in town for the weekend.”

The worst thing about Ryan Rothwell is how nice he is. Nate always said it and I never understood how the worst thing about someone could be how nice they are. Now I get it. He isn’t doing anything wrong and I want to get Daisy to throw him out. It’d be a more tempting option if I thought speaking to Daisy wouldn’t result in Halle’s friends trying to kick my ass.

Halle takes the spot at my side and looks up, her bunny ears slipping backward. “You okay?”

“Want to dance?” I ask her.

Her eyebrow quirks. I’m as surprised as she is. “Uh, sure.” Halle takes my hand and leads me through the crowd to a less crowded spot out of the view of our friends. “Spill it.”

“Spill what?”

“What’s got you all agitated? You definitely don’t voluntarily dance. Do you have your noise reducer things in?”

“It isn’t that. I—” She’s looking up at me, patiently waiting for me to say something. “Have you been to a Halloween party before?”

“Not since I was a kid. And I’ve never been in a nightclub before.”

Of course she hasn’t. “So this is a new experience for you?”

She nods, her bunny ears wiggling. “It’s kind of perfect, because I’m writing a chapter that starts in a nightclub.”

“What do you need to help you write? What are your imaginary friends up to in this part?”

This is what I’m supposed to be doing. Helping her in return for all the help she’s given me. Not thinking about who she is or isn’t talking to. I don’t ask her about her book as much as I should. She brushes me off all the time if I bring it up.

“They’re not imaginary friends! Okay, well, maybe they’re imaginary, but anyway. Nothing. I just need to try to write it I guess. My characters—not friends—get into a big fight, and she storms off. He follows her, tells her she’s stubborn and awkward, and makes him feel like he’s losing his mind. They kiss. It’s kind of hard to visualize that while we’re dressed like this, though. Maybe we could just dance? And you can tell me what’s making you act weird? C’mon.”

I don’t know how to dance so I follow Halle as she leads me from the quieter edge of the dance floor to the center. Her hands link at the back of my neck, her body pressing into mine so we can still talk with other people behind us. Her heels put us at a closer height.

“Is this okay? If I touch you here?” I ask her when my hands grip her waist gently, feeling her move to the rhythm of the song seamlessly.

She nods, mouth skimming my ear when she leans in so I can hear her. “You don’t need to ask me.”

“I do. I should. Men should.” How have I steered this conversation in the direction of Halle considering that other men should touch her? “You deserve only good experiences.”

“You’re not just men, though, you’re you. I like when you touch me. I only get good experiences with you. Henry?”

“Yeah?”

“I know you’re dressed up for the occasion, but can we lose the spikes?” she says, nodding toward my hair. “I kinda like the shirt, but I can’t concentrate when you look at me.”

Music to my fucking ears. Hanging the sunglasses from the button on my shirt, I joyously rip that plastic crap the guys got from the Halloween store from my head. “You like the shirt?”

“Mmm.” Even though her mouth is next to my ear, I can tell she’s smiling. Her body feels so good against mine. She smells so good. Every single thing about her is so good.

“I like your costume, too. A lot.” If she presses against me any harder, she’ll feel how much I like her costume. How much I like her.

“Did you see my tail?”

“I saw your tail. And your socks. And the heels. And the ears. I always pay attention to what you’re wearing, but you made it impossible not to tonight.”

“I hoped you’d like it,” is all she says.

And those five words give me something to think about for the rest of the night.

I CAN STILL HEAR MY friends drunkenly singing a song about karma in the Uber as it drives away from Halle’s house.

“They’re going to get me in trouble with Mrs. Astor. I swear her hearing aids pick up sound two streets away,” Halle says, walking up her driveway with her heels in hand.

I’m close behind her, trying not to concentrate on her bunny tail or the curve of her waist where my hands spent the night. “Mrs. Astor loves me. I’ll protect you from her.”

She digs in her purse for her keys, and the second we’re through the door she drops her shoes and purse on the floor and table beside the door. “Is there anyone you can’t charm?”

“Professor Thornton.” I kick my shoes off beside hers. “You.”

“You think you haven’t charmed me? You’re in my house, Henry. You’re about to sleep in my bed.” I move closer to her and watch the way her eyes take me in. Leaning around her, I drop my sunglasses onto the table next to her purse. I swear I hear her breath catch. “I’m pretty sure you’ve charmed me real good.”

She doesn’t move when I stand straight, close enough to her that I can see every dark lash when her eyes close. Every barely there freckle on her nose. Every tiny movement of her chest as she tries to control her breathing. “I haven’t tried to charm you, Halle.”

“What would you do? If you wanted to charm me?”

“I’d tell you how fucking beautiful you are. That when you laugh I want to listen to it forever. I’d tell you that when I daydream, I think of us. And all the things I want us to do. And all the things I want to do to you.”

Her big brown eyes are fixed on me. “I think that would definitely work.”

It’s unmistakable the way her eyes trace my lips. I push the bunny headband from her crown and throw it onto the floor behind me. “This isn’t for experience, Halle,” I say gently, trailing my thumb along her jaw. “This is because I want to, and I only want to if you want to.”

I lean in slowly, slower than I’ve ever moved, because if I’m wrong, if everyone is wrong, then I ruin this. My heart is thumping dramatically in my chest and I’m more nervous than I’ve ever been to kiss someone. And then she whispers, “I want to.”

And I finally kiss her.