I wasn’t about to break my promise to myself for the first guy who threw a nice smile my way.
“Being comfortable with gruesome a result of you being a horror fan?” he wondered as I directed my attention towards cutting the gauze.
“Guess that because of my Freddy costume?”
“That and you have an impressive amount of horror villain figurines in your room… Or, what I’m assuming was your room.”
I positioned the gauze on his forehead. The amount I cut was a perfect length, covering the entire injury.
“That was my room,” I confirmed while taping the bandage down. His hand moved up like he was waiting for me to topple over again. I chewed on my lip, anticipating his fingers to return to my hip, but he only hovered.
In reality, I should have been grateful for the space. But I would have preferred to feel his touch steadying me again.
“You must do make-up a lot,” he noted. “Or know someone who does. Because your costume looked professional.”
“I did it myself. It’s kind of a hobby.” I pulled back to observe my handy work. It wasn’t too shabby. Definitely better than the little band-aid he’d tried to put on before.
“What about you? Do you like horror?” I asked.
He made a face but did his best to wipe it away as soon as possible. I laughed.
“I’ve enjoyed some,” he said with a smile. “Not the biggest fan of gore, so I avoid those. But I enjoy psychological ones. In my opinion, the most horrific thing is watching people battle mentally.”
I tilted my head, considering his point. “The slasher ones are the heart of the genre, though. Have you even experienced horror if you haven’t seen a slasher?”
He brushed his hand on his bandage, fingers running across the tape. “Sure, slashers could be considered the heart. But I could argue psychological’s the future.”
“You could. If you enjoy playing devil’s advocate,” I teased. “And being wrong.”
He shook his head with an amused grin, “I have no problem being wrong. Playing devil’s advocate can be fun sometimes.”
I raised a brow. Something about a man willing to argue and be wrong was undeniably attractive. He seemed like someone who could hold his own in a conversation, even if he didn’t know much about the topic. I was a sucker for smart talkers. Another point for him in my mind. Not that it mattered with me being on a cute guy hiatus.
“Whose car was that, by the way?” I asked. “It looked almost identical to mine. I need you to know I don’t make a habit of getting into strangers’ vehicles without reason.”
“It’s my friend David’s car.” He pushed off of the stool and went over to the mirror to inspect my work. I watched him run his fingers through his hair, pushing the strands over his shoulder. “He’s the reason I have this.”
I frowned, eyeing the cut now protected by the bandage, “Doesn’t sound like much of a friend.”
“That’s what I say whenever he convinces me to do wild crap.” He chuckled. When I raised a brow in curiosity, he continued, “He talked me into doing some bootleg zip lining after hours.”
“So, you two are daredevils?”
My interest was piqued. I’d given up dating, partying, and drinking for the past year and was going strong. I wanted something fun to fill my newfound time. And what better way than to do so than find a group of people who did random stuff for fun.
“Daredevil might be a stretch.” He turned back to me. “I’m Dakota, by the way. I don’t think I introduced myself last time.”
I accepted his offered hand for a shake. His long, warm fingers wrapped around mine, and I could feel my body urging me to hold on for as long as possible. “I’m Emmy.”
“Emmy,” he repeated like he was committing it to memory. “Thank you for patching me up.”
“Couldn’t have you bleeding all over our new carpets,” I teased. “Besides, I’m usually the unofficial medic for my dad’s teams.”
He laughed. “Good to know. So, you’re attending Westbrooke this semester? Or… are you still at Amber U?”
“Yeah. Transferred for this semester.” I tucked my hands in my pockets since my fingers felt fidgety with nothing to do. “Technically, it’s my first semester ever. Kind of dropped out of Amber U before getting any actual credits.”
Dakota made an understanding hum, “Freshman year’s tough. If I wasn’t on the team, I don’t think I’d still be in school.”
