Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
“Hey, what makes you so sure I’m loveless?” Poe said.
“Your personality,” Edgar said.
Poe sniggered.
“You literally won’t let other people touch you, so.” Allie shrugged. “Must put kind of a damper on things?”
Poe flipped her off, but a shadow bloomed behind his eyes.
Edgar’s phone rang, and he slid it from his pocket with the hand that wasn’t massaging collards with garlic.
“It’s Jamie,” Edgar said. Poe and Allie exchanged kvelling expressions, and Edgar felt his cheeks heat as he answered.
“Hey,” Jamie said. “Okay, super last-minute, I know, but are you free tonight?”
“Ummm. As it happens, I was going to invite you to come over for dinner tonight.”
Poe did a facepalm and mouthed, You didn’t even invite them yet?
Edgar had to admit this was a significant oversight.
“That sounds so lovely, but any chance I could take a rain check? Because remember how it’s the Burlesque Festival this week?”
Edgar cringed, ashamed to realize that he’d forgotten, though Jamie had mentioned it. “Um. I forgot. Sorry.”
“Well, anyway, Helen got tickets to one of the shows tonight from someone who—actually, they were super unclear on how they got them. I think they’re legit though. So I have two tickets—”
Edgar’s heart sank.
“Any chance you wanna venture out and be my date to queer burlesque?”
Crowds, unfamiliar locations, could be ghosts anywhere. Small talk, claustrophobia, being forced to smile, everyone wondering what vibrant, gorgeous Jamie was doing with him.
Allie and Poe were staring at him and making indecipherable gestures.
This was what tonight’s dinner was supposed to be about anyway—showing Jamie that you can be a real boyfriend to them. A real partner.
“Um. Hello? Edgar? You there?”
Jamie’s sweet voice, glorious scent, the firm press of their shoulder to his, the way their lashes swept down, how they rested their fingers against his pulse point.
“Hey, yeah, sorry, I’m here.”
An epic eye roll from Poe.
“Uh, yeah, yes. I’d love to go on a date with you tonight.”
***
Edgar was waiting for Jamie outside the Luna Lounge, feeling less interestingly dressed by the moment as he watched people in amazing and outlandish fashion enter the club.
He’d worn the too-small T-shirt that Jamie had liked so much when he tried it on at Magpie Vintage and was self-consciously tugging the hem down any time a breeze hit the thin strip of bare skin between his shirt and jeans.
That was what you were supposed to do on dates, right? Look nice so your date knew you cared about them and had made an effort?
But when Jamie turned the corner, looking absolutely amazing and flanked by Helen on one side and a tall blond stranger on the other, Edgar found himself tugging his shirt down once more.
“Hey!” Jamie called when they saw him. Their eyes lit up, and they gave that private smile that was only for Edgar. “You look hot.”
They elbowed Helen, who looked him up and down and agreed, one eyebrow raised.
“I say, Edgar,” they said. “How you’ve blossomed since our last burlesque meeting.”
And although that would’ve made him cringe from anyone else, Helen managed to convey nothing but delight with their comment.
“Thanks,” he said, cheeks heating.
“This is my friend Max,” Helen said, gesturing to the stranger. “She/her. Max, this is Edgar, he/him.”
Max swept blond hair over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes at Edgar. “You don’t want to be here at all. Thank god. I needed someone to snark with, as I also do not want to be here.”
Edgar blinked.
Wait. You’re allowed to come right out and say you don’t want to be someplace that you are, in front of the people who invited you?
“What? Come on,” Helen wheedled. “You wanna be here.”
“No. I want to see the performances. I do not want to be in the place the performances occur.”
“Fair,” Helen said.
The night breeze caressed Edgar’s waist, and instead of pulling his shirt down, he let himself enjoy how nice it felt.
Kinda grim to learn at the age of twenty-five that you value strangers’ opinions of you over your own personal enjoyment of the world.
“Fuck me,” Edgar said under his breath.
“Don’t give me openings like that if we’re gonna be snarking together,” Max said.
“No, I just…” He trailed off, because he’d realized something.
For the first time in years and years, Edgar was more worried about social awkwardness with Jamie’s friends than that he’d see a ghost.
You have a whole new set of terrible anxieties! Oh god. But also, hooray!
“I want to spend time with Jamie and make them happy. I don’t want to be in the place this occurs either,” Edgar said.
Slowly, he raised his eyes to Jamie’s. But they were smiling warmly.
Edgar laughed in relief. Part of him wished Jamie were performing tonight, so he’d get to see them dazzle the crowd, but Jamie didn’t perform during haunting season, so he’d have to wait.
Helen wanted to get a table close to the bar, so they went to claim one.