1
Omar
“Omarrr!” Rafi screams, delighted and slightly tipsy as I arrive at Everett’s tattoo shop. He takes one look at my Spock costume and cackles so hard he starts snorting. I smile because when we lived together, he called me a Vulcan on a nearly daily basis.
“I loooove your costuuuume!” he exclaims, holding up his fingers in a not-quite Vulcan salute before giving me a sloppy hug while wearing six-inch heels.
Somebody has definitely been pre-gaming, though given how small he is, I’m guessing he’s only about half a drink in.
“Where’s Parker?” I ask, looking around for her. “Please don’t tell me she’s already passed out.”
Parker’s even smaller than Rafi, and neither of them can hold their liquor, which amuses me to no end. She and I developed a friendship over the fact that she gives Rafi a hard time, and she’s quickly become one of my favorite people. We’ll be neighbors in a matter of weeks, and I’m looking forward to it.
Rafi’s face falls. “She didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” I ask, pulling out my phone to check.
Damn. Missed her texts.
Parker:Sorry, Spock. Your bar buddy is green around the gills and staying in bed tonight.
Parker:Also, you were right about gas station sushi
Parker:Don’t. Cancel.
She knows my hermit tendencies well. I sigh and type back.
Omar:You’re sending me to a gay club *on Halloween* without reinforcements?
Parker:I sorry
Omar:Fine, but you’re getting the next round of coffees.
Parker:
Omar:Do you need me to bring you some soup?
Parker:Already having it delivered
Omar:
Dammit. I only agreed to this because Parker was coming with us.
I look up from my phone, and Everett is coming from his tattoo room to fist-bump me. “Hey, brother.”
Everett is Rafi’s tattooed silver-fox boyfriend, and he’s tall and built. By comparison, Rafi is only five foot one and several years younger. They make a striking couple. Tonight, they’re dressed as Rockabilly Frankenstein and his bride, and they look so damned in love it hurts.
A soft look comes over Rafi’s face when he sees my wistful smile. Tugging on my sleeve, he says, “Okay, if you’re gonna put this much effort into your costume, I beg of you…please let me take you the rest of the way there.” He pats his makeup bag.
I groan inwardly. This is what I get for saying yes to things.
Fine.
He reads the resignation on my face and hops up and down, clapping his hands. “Sit here and close your eyes.”
I swear, there is no one else in the world I’d allow to put makeup on me and then drag me to a club.
Rafi came into my life shortly after he married my late brother, when he brokered our reunion. He acts like it was nothing, bringing Asadi and me back together, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
