Page 64 of The Casanova Complex

A look passes over Elliott’s face, and he sighs, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I am too. I’m eleven. Almost twelve. I’m like the only one in my entire class going trick-or-treating. I tried to tell Merritt that, but she’s making me go because she said”—he lifts his fingers in quotes—“‘Enjoy being a kid while I can.’”

I shrug. “She’s not wrong, man. One day, you’re trick-or-treating and playing Call of Duty, and the next, you’re in college. Kinda sucks. Plus, it’s free candy. It’ll be fun.”

He nods. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. There’s a house at the end of the street that always gives you full-size candy bars. Maybe we can go twice.”

I laugh just as footsteps echo down the stairs beside us, and we both turn, watching as Merritt steps onto the landing, her gaze on mine.

Her brown eyes appear smoky tonight with the charcoal eyeliner she’s framed them with. “Bennett. Hey. Sorry, I didn’t know you were here yet.”

She’s wearing a dark gray sweater beneath a cropped leather jacket and black boots. Her long hair is straight tonight, falling down almost to the curve of her ass.

She’s beautiful. As she always is.

“No worries. I was just hanging out with Elliott. What…” I trail off, my eyes slipping down her body again, slower this time. “Are you supposed to be?”

“It isn’t obvious?”

“Not really? The leather jacket is new, but the rest feels pretty on brand,” I say, reaching up to rub my palm along the back of my neck.

Merritt brushes past me and stands beside her brother, throwing her arm over his shoulder and grabbing his other hand and bringing the fake plastic knife he’s now holding to her throat. “What’s your favorite scary movie? I’m Sidney Prescott, duh.”

Damn.

Yeah, I missed that.

“Okay, duh. Now I see it. Sorry, I forgot how much you love your ’90s movies,” I tease, then turn my attention to Elliott. “This was her idea, huh?”

“How’d you know?” he says, arching a brow.

Merritt’s elbow connects with his side, and she bristles. “Rude. You love Scream too. You’re just as much of a fan of cult-classic slashers as I am, dude.”

Elliott lifts the plastic knife in one hand and the mask in the other in surrender. “Fine. Fine. Fine, dude.”

“Actually, you know what, you should really be thanking me for your superior taste in music and movies at such a young age,” she adds. “Now, get your bucket, Killer. We’ve got lots of candy to get to replenish the stash.”

Two hours later, we’ve made it all the way through Merritt’s neighborhood and the one next to hers. Lucky for me, I somehow got designated the candy bucket carrier, which means that Merritt and I have made a sizable dent in what they’ve got left to bring home.

I’m going to have to skate for three hours to burn off the amount of chocolate I’ve put down tonight. Worth it because I’ve gotten to spend time with Merritt, and it’s not working on the project.

She’s funny as fuck. She’s sassy, and sarcastic, and sharp-tongued.

I can’t even remember the last time I laughed this much or had so much fun.

I’m seeing her in a different light than her normal sarcastic demeanor. She’s more laid-back and less worried, and honestly, I just want to see her like this more.

See her eyes shining and her cheeks flushed from laughter. She’s stunning when she laughs, and suddenly, I want to be the funniest guy in the fucking world. Just for her.

“Thank you for letting me tag along with you tonight. Elliott’s a really cool kid,” I say to Merritt, her shoulder brushing against mine as we trail a short distance behind him.

He ran into a kid he knows from school about halfway through the neighborhood, and they’ve been running ahead, leaving just the two of us.

Not that I’m complaining.

I’ll take whatever time I can get from her.

Merritt’s pinky has brushed against mine more than once tonight, and I feel like a little fucking schoolgirl about it.

For fuck’s sake.