Page 62 of Venomous as a Snake

“Gross,” he mutters, patting my wound dry.

I wrinkle my nose. “I know, right?”

He unrolls the gauze from the first-aid kit and begins wrapping my arm. “Okay. But where did the wig come from?”

“The store where wigs come from?” I answer, my brow knitted together in confusion.

“What made you wear a wig?” he clarifies, then tears a piece of tape with his teeth. “There are so many people in the club every night of the week, you could have slipped in just as easy without—”

“I didn’t research,” I cut in. “Didn’t know how many cameras were there or who owned it. I know better than to go in without a disguise, even if it’s a half-assed attempt at one.”

“You really didn’t know Walker owns the club?”

I scoff. “He still hasn’t told me.”

Collin nods. “Did he always keep secrets from you?”

“No,” I mumble. “Never.”

The heat lamp in Carol’s enclosure flickers on, telling me there was a temperature drop in the house. Collin jerks his head back, surprised by the magic of sensors, but he’s quick to recover.

“Is that for you?”

“Ha. Ha.”

He wanders over to peer inside, leaning closer to the glass to get a better look at who’s inside.

“What’s the snake’s name?”

“Carol.”

Collin whips around to flash me his shocked grin. “You named her Carol but named your other pets Pimp and Hooker?”

“His name is Carol, and he came first.”

“Why Carol?” he curiously inquires.

I shrug. “I thought he was a she when I bought him. But we were wrong.”

“Why not call him Carl?”

“He doesn’t look like a Carl.”

Collin just blinks at me, trying to process my reasoning.

“Carol can be a guy’s name. It’s viewed as masculine in Romania.”

“Okay,” he drawls. “And you’re Romanian?”

“Not in the slightest.” I observe him before I speak again. “Can I ask you a question?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“You and Forrest—”

“Are not dating,” he interjects. “That’s what you were going to ask, isn’t it?”

“No,” I lie with zero grace. “I thought maybe you were best friends who sometimes cuddle on the weekends.”