He hooked his pinky around mine. We didn’t unhook our fingers, even after we lowered our hands.
“I hate aliens,” he said.
I frowned and glanced at the house’s sign, The Last Abduction. “Aliens? Really?”
As far as my ranking of horror went, aliens were on the lowest tier, along with evil gnomes and chaotic birds. I couldn’t think of any truly devastating horror alien movies (besides the obvious sci-fi one) that’d come out in the last decade. As far as the larger collective consciousness went, aliens seemed low on that pole as well.
“One of my foster brothers swore he’d been abducted, and the evidence—” David shook his head as if it were disgraceful not to believe— “was damning.”
I swallowed a laugh because this was real and serious. Something rooted in his childhood. “What kind of evidence?”
“Creepy.” He sniffed, looking around the queue line as we started moving faster to the entrance.
“Care to elaborate?”
David shook his head. “Not really. Unearthing deep-rooted fears doesn’t seem wise when one is about to face said fears, you know?”
I pressed my shoulder against his. “I won’t leave your side.”
“Promise?” he asked, half-teasing.
“We’re locked and loaded, aren’t we?” I tugged on my pinky that was still curled around his. “And we can toss these bracelets.”
“You wanted the bracelets, so we’re doing the bracelets.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue,” he said.
My nipples hardened at the finality in David’s tone. I pulled my hand away from his and stuffed it into my jacket. Prolonged contact equaled heightened emotion, I told myself. I’d have to pace myself if I wanted to have a leg to stand on in this relationship. He couldn’t have known I was this wanting so early on.
David cocked his head to the side, studying me and my rigid posture when I pulled away from him. But he said nothing until we crossed the threshold of the house.
“Don’t wander or lag too far behind.” He brushed aside a plastic curtain tattooed with mist from the excessive fog machine.
“I wouldn’t dare leave you to fend for yourself.” I grabbed onto the hem of his jacket. That seemed a much safer option than skin-on-skin contact.
David led the way like he’d done through every house, rounding each corner with the vigilant eye of a man with every intent to survive. It was regrettably hot, and I found no part of me willing to resist the pull.
I didn’t notice the house’s first jump scare because I’d been too busy studying his sharp jaw. The green light from above painted shadows across his skin. A fan that was supposed to clear out the fog pushed his spicy cologne into the air.
“Fuck,” he said with a low laugh when the second scare actor knocked into us. David looked back at me for a check-in.
“Yeah.” I chewed on my bottom lip, trying not to stare at him for too long.
He caught on to me, anyway. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head and nudged my chin toward the fork in the house. “Which way?”
David wasn’t convinced and said, “You pick.”
“No, you.”
“Are you scared?” He frowned and grabbed my hand.
“Terrified,” I mumbled. Of wanting him this much.
“We’ll make it out,” he promised with a teasing smile.
