24. Desperate

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It took some persuading, but I'd finally gotten Nolan to agree to my costume idea.

He wanted something simple that required no effort. Suggesting to go to Gia's party dressed as mechanics or in our pajamas. When he suggested we dress up like peanut butter and jelly I had to put my foot down.

The artist in me wanted more of a challenge. One that would require a few hours of prep and a giant case of costume make-up, provided by Candi.

When I called Nolan Saturday night he sounded like he'd just woken up. Not surprising. He seemed to spend most of his time napping.

"What?" He growled over the line, groggy voice sounding particularly sexy.

"It's almost seven. Why are you still asleep?"

There was a pause and I could imagine him checking his phone to confirm. He let out a yawn. "I thought the party didn't start until nine."

"It does, but the make-up is going to take a while," I explained, laying our costumes on my bed. 

The ripped and dirtied Bellcreek football jersey looked perfect alongside the matching cheerleader uniform I was currently wearing. Checking my reflection in the mirror, I was still spooked by the zombiefied version of myself that stared back.

"Make-up?" He sounded fully awake now. "You never said anything about make-up."

"Unless you know of a way to get that natural just-risen-from-the-dead look, you're gonna need some make-up."

My words were met with a groan. "The mechanic idea is still on the table. The jumpsuits are super comfortable, too."

Ignoring the plea in his voice I asked, "So, are you coming over?"

"Is your mom there?"

"Yeah," I replied, glancing out to the hall. I could hear her on the phone, probably in her bedroom.

"Then you should come over here."

"You afraid of my mom?" I teased.

He sounded more serious than amused when he said, "I don't have the best track record with parents."

I pushed back the questions that sprang up. It was none of my business. "I'll be over soon."

* * *

Nolan looked completely out of place inside standing in the living room of his own house. His dark attire stood out like a shadow among the brightly colored walls and furniture.

The walls were a bright blue, the couches creme colored and full of throw pillows. It was an open floor plan so the living, dining and kitchen area were all in the same room.

An island separated the kitchen from the living room. That's where I set the make-up kit. Nolan eyed the case suspiciously, before his gaze flitted over to me.

I smiled wide, reveling in his worried expression. "You ready to become a zombie?"

"Do I have a choice?" He muttered.

I gently guided him to sit on a stool. "Nope."

I put my painting skills to work, using Nolan's face as a canvas. It didn't occur to me that I had to be that close to his face. If I hadn't already, after tonight I'd have every line of his face committed to memory.

The sharpness of his jaw, his cheekbones. The thickness of his eyebrows and his long lashes. There was a slight bend in his nose. Had he broken it before? How'd he get the small cut on his lip.

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