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Neville pouted. “Why is that funny?”

“Because one, I’m a ghoul,” I pointed out. “Those nineties rom coms are never about literal ghouls, Neville. And two, it’s Dan fucking Ewen. He’s made my life miserable for three years. He’s a dick!” My best friend’s eyes lit up, and he parted his lips to speak, but I got there before he could. “Do not say anything about his dick.”

Neville huffed and rolled his eyes, picking his chip packet back up to peer inside. “You need to get better at this being-horny-for-guys thing.”

I don’t actually think I’m having any issues with that, I thought as I bit my lip and resisted the intense urge to peer back down into the yard. Just for one more look.

I was going to have my change my underwear before I finished getting dressed. I’d leaked an embarrassing amount of pre-cum just from, once again, spying on my neighbour like a pervy little gremlin.

Embarrassment heated my cheeks, and I began awkwardly waddling toward the door, keeping low to the ground so I wouldn’t be spotted through the window. “We need to get going so I’m not late.”

And I needed to stop being a creep. I needed to stop watching Ewen. I needed to stop thinking about him. I didn’t even like him. It was ridiculous.

Fucking Dullahan Dan and his stupid wrestling outfit and tiny shorts and big muscles. He was so annoying. He was the worst.

I was done. Done paying attention to him. Done thinking about him. I had better things to do.

—

I found myself detouring on the way to work after dropping Neville off at his place. Driving back down a familiar street. Ducking my head and keeping my gaze lowered as I hurried through a familiar door.

My face burned when I stepped into the store and saw that the werewolf dildo was still suction-cupped to the floor. Someone had placed little Wet Floor signs around it so no poor unsuspecting customers tripped on the big knotted dick wobbling in time with the music’s heavy bass.

“Oh, hi!” a familiar voice said as I slunk up to the counter and placed an object on it. “How’s your head feeling?”

Fuck. I’d been hoping he’d forgotten about me. It wasn’t like I was all that memorable.

Usually, anyway. When I wasn’t jerking off werewolf dildos in the middle of sex shops.

“Fine,” I mumbled, resisting the urge to reach up and touch the sore spot on my forehead. At least it hadn’t swelled up.

The friendly fae shop worker gave me a sweet smile, then rang up my purchase. I took the plain black carrier bag with an awkward smile—more of a pained grimace—and turned to leave as quickly as possible.

“Enjoy the pumpkin head!” he called after me.

Chapter Ten

Don’t Go in the Storage Room

Dan

“Alright, folks.”

From my spot on the couch, I lifted my head off my lap to peer over as Holt swept into the backstage area with Taylor just behind him carrying a tablet.

At the counter, Brian politely turned off the blender and abandoned his protein shake to pay attention. Mads put down her magazine, Carl and Kenneth halted their conversation, and Val turned from the sink. Over in the gym area, Heidi dropped her dumbbells with a clang and Susan looked up from her yoga mat, while Crossbody audibly huffed in annoyance but slowed his treadmill to a brisk walk.

“Hey, T-bone!” Kit called down from the ceiling. Taylor shot a cute grin in their general direction and waved.

“Morning, Taylor!” Vince called, voice muffled around his mouthful of oatmeal as he sat beside me on the couch eating his breakfast.

“Good morning,” Taylor said politely back. “Morning, everyone.”

“Nice tie, sir,” Gabe purred with a sly grin, leaning his hip on the counter as he shook his beaker.

“Very handsome, Mr. Hough,” Biff added as he closed the fridge.

“Those pants look great on you,” I piped up, just because Taylor was adorable when he blushed.