Page 32 of Not Just Gal Pals

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry that Maya and Jasper were responsible for breaking up our make-out session. We really only had ourselves to blame, given our Emma-like meddling.

I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand and ran my other hand through my hair, hoping I didn’t look as hot and bothered as I felt. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Blake tucking her shirt back into her pants. Goddamnit.

We exchanged glances, and I nodded toward the door, raising an eyebrow in a silent question. Blake nodded, and we rose to our feet, walking toward the barn’s entrance until we were only a few feet from Maya and Jasper.

We stopped, standing there awkwardly while Maya and Jasper, completely oblivious to our presence, continued to make out in the doorway, blocking our escape.

After what felt like an interminable length of time but was probably only a few seconds, I coughed to get their attention.

Nothing.

Maya and Jasper were in the throes of passion and clearly only had eyes, and ears, for each other. Had Blake and I looked like that a minute earlier?

I coughed again, louder, at the exact same time Blake also did a loud, fake cough.

The combined effect of Blake and me fake-coughing loudly was alarming, reminiscent of a room full of pneumonia patients. Surely that will do it.

Maya and Jasper jumped back, their arms falling to their sides, eyes wide.

“Blake? Jenny?” If surprise hadn’t been written all over Maya’s face, it would have been clear from her voice alone. I saw her eyes flit briefly over the champagne bottle in my hand.

“We were… I was just showing Jenny the amazing murals.” Blake gestured to the walls. “Anyway, we should be going now. Leave you two...in peace.” The corners of Blake’s mouth twitched, and both Maya and Jasper blushed.

“Uh, yes, thanks…” Jasper’s voice trailed off.

Blake and I escaped the barn, suppressing laughter that burst from our mouths as soon as the door shut firmly behind us.

“It seems like our matchmaking efforts were a little too successful!” I said through my laughter.

“Yeah.” Blake chuckled.

But as a cloud moved across the moon, blocking the light, I could have sworn Blake’s expression also darkened.

And then the reality of what we’d just done sunk in. Shit.

I just kissed Blake Mitchell. And I liked it.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

BLAKE

“George, it’s me.” I pulled up my mask, smiling at George who stared at me blankly. She looked quite adorable as Where’s Waldo, in a striped red-and-white beanie, matching sweater, and large, round, black-rimmed glasses.

“Good lord, you are terrifying. You definitely aren’t into the sexy Halloween costume, are you?” George grinned as she eyed my Scream-inspired Ghostface mask and black hooded robe.

“Excuse me, you’re one to talk. I wouldn’t exactly class Waldo as sexy.”

“Hey, who doesn’t love a cute guy in a beanie?” George ran her hand over her beanie and ushered me into Novel Gossip, which was buzzing with laughter and conversation. All the costumed guests looked like they were enjoying themselves—a lot.

George must have read my mind. “I may have made the punch a little strong.” She half-smiled, half-grimaced.

George had removed most of the tables and chairs from the cafe section of Novel Gossip to make plenty of room for people to mingle. She’d also gone all out on the Halloween decorations. Fake spiderwebs, the sort that looked like stretched cotton balls, hung from the windows and bookcases. Cut-out cardboard spiders, pumpkins, and skeletons were stuck to the walls. Orange and black balloons floated above a table full of Halloween-themed cupcakes, donuts decorated with orange and black icing, deviled eggs transformed into bloodshot eyeballs using pimento olives and red mayonnaise, mini pizzas with cheese spiderwebs melted onto them, jack-o’-lantern pastries and bowls of standard Halloween candy. Bottles of wine and spirits, a punch, mixers and red plastic cups covered another table nearby. The warm air smelled of cinnamon, sugar and mulled wine.

I tugged my mask back over my face. “I’m not really into Halloween costumes, so this seemed like the easiest option. No makeup, no fuss.”

But it wasn’t just the no-fuss nature of my outfit that had appealed to me. After George had delightedly warned me Jenny would be at the party, it had occurred to me that a horrifying Halloween costume might act as a chastity belt to stop anything further happening between us.

But now, as I scanned the room, looking for Jenny, butterflies fluttering at the thought of seeing her for the first time after the wedding last weekend, I started second-guessing my outfit choice. I should have worn something more flattering. And also more breathable. George was clearly keeping the room well-heated for all the skimpy Halloween costume wearers, and I was uncomfortably warm.