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Snatching the red leotard, she took the plunge, filled with excitement. One foot, then the other went through the leg holes, and she tugged the tight spandex up her body. It hugged her perfectly. She wasn’t blessed with as many curves as her friend Kelsey, but the deep V of the neckline and her heavily padded bra definitely gave the illusion of a bosom.

Cocking her head to the side, she studied her reflection in the full-length mirror behind her bedroom door. Tan stockings or fishnets? With a nod, she decided on both. October could be chilly at night.

Next up, the orange and black fire-like shawl. Once she took it off the bed, she tied it loosely around her neck, letting its feathers rest on her shoulders. Frowning, she realized this blocked the view of her cleavage.

Once she got all the pieces together, she would decide what worked and what didn’t. She had enough stuff to make changes if she had to. Right now, her focus should be on putting it together.

Humming to herself, Carrie slid the feathered fingerless gloves up her forearms and imagined what the afterparty would be like. The first part would be a brief trunk or treat and parade for the kids. Then they’d have a barbecue type thing for the families. Though, afterward, when the sun dipped past the horizon and the kids went home, the adult celebration of the holiday would begin.

Her mind flashed to the crowded room full of men clad in leather, loud music, and the pool table in the center of the room. Her memory of that night was fuzzy at best. She only had brief snippets of shouting, pain, and discomfort left. What she’d thought was a simple ecstasy pill had been something far more sinister. She’d been a zombie, locked in her body and completely at their mercy. The worst position to be in when surrounded by horny bikers who lacked morals.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.

Kid and his brothers weren’t Mike and his.

The Royal Bastards weren’t the Bloody Scorpions.

The building might be the same, but the circumstances would be different. For example, no one would offer her any strange pills to take. Even if someone did, she’d decline. While she continued to drink socially, she’d given up all illicit substances. And she sure as shit wasn’t about to let herself be that vulnerable ever again. Her days of letting loose were behind her.

Of the many things she’d learned in therapy, being a responsible grown-up was the most imperative. If she continued down the reckless road she’d been on, she wouldn’t survive.

Blowing out a heavy breath, she placed a hand over her racing heart. She could do this. She was ready for this. Hiding away in her apartment and avoiding get-togethers was no way to live. Carrie was a young woman who thrived when she mingled among people with a lot of life ahead of her. She couldn’t dodge parties forever.

“Holy fuck.”

She squealed at the sound of the man’s voice. Heart in her throat, she whirled around to find Kid standing in her bedroom doorway, staring at her with feral hunger in his eyes.

“Sorry.” He held out both hands and stepped back. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Catching her breath, Carrie waved a hand at him, dismissing his concern. “You’re fine. I didn’t hear you come in.”

He glanced over his shoulder and scrubbed a hand along his jaw. “I just needed to grab the rest of my stuff.”

When he turned toward her, his gaze swept over her. Fire burned behind his irises, and he shifted his stance.

“Do you…” She began stepping toward him. “Do you need me to take some of it in my car?”

As far as she’d seen, Kid only had his motorcycle. While it had saddlebags, she wondered if they were big enough to get all his clothes and things to the clubhouse.

He chuckled. “Nah.” He shook his head. “I don’t have much.”

Biting her lips together into a thin line, she nodded and picked at her fingernails.

The two of them stood in silence staring at each other, hesitating.

Did he not want to go? Was he waiting for her to beg him to stay? She opened her mouth to ask but closed it quickly.

No.

Kid wasn’t that kind of guy. If he sought to live in her apartment, he would. He hadn’t asked her permission to move in when he did. Why would he need it now? The request died in her throat and went unsaid.

“Is this your costume?” he asked, gesturing toward her.

Carrie glanced down as though unfamiliar with what she wore. “Yeah,” she replied sheepishly. “Well, most of it.”

When he grinned, her heart fluttered.

“I need stockings, the wings, a boa, and my headpiece,” she blathered on about her costume because she wasn’t sure what else to say. All she knew was that she didn’t want the conversation to end. Because when it did, he would leave.