I also have workout sweats.
"Which will abso put you on the cover of GQ. My b." Qhuinn headed into the store. "Let's do this."
John followed along with Blay. Inside, the music was loud and the clothes were crowded in tight and the pictures of the models on the walls showed lots of perfect people in black and white.
Qhuinn started flipping through rows of hanging shirts with vague disgust, like the shit was something his grand-mother would wear. Which made sense. He was definitely an Urban Outfitters man, with a thick chain swinging from the blue-black jeans and the Affliction T-shirt with the skull and wings on it and the black boots that were big as your head. His dark hair was spiked up, and he had seven gunmetal studs in his left ear running from lobe to upper cartilage.
John wasn't entirely sure where else he was pierced. Some things you just didn't need to know about your buddies.
Blay, who fit in at the store, branched out and went over to the distressed-jeans section, which he seemed to approve of. John hung back, less concerned with the clothes than the fact that people were looking at them. As far as he was aware, humans couldn't sense vampires, but man, the three of them were getting a lot of attention for some reason.
"Can I help you?"
They turned around. The girl who'd asked was tall as Xhex, but the comp between the two females ended right there. Unlike the female of John's fantasies, this one spiked way high on the feminine scale and suffered from hair-related Tourette's, a condition that manifested itself in incessant head jerks and an evidently irresistible urge to fondle her brunette frizz bomb. But she had skills. Somehow, she managed to handle all that hair play without tipping over into a T-shirt display.
Frankly, it was kind of impressive. Although not necessarily in a good way.
Now Xhex would never -
Fuck. Why the hell was Xhex always the standard?
As Qhuinn smiled at the girl, plans of the on-all-fours variety flared in his eyes. "Perfect timing. We totally need help. My buddy here needs a vibe injection. Can you hook him?"
Oh. God. No.
When the girl glanced over at John, her hot stare made him feel like she'd grabbed him between the legs and sized up his c**k with a squeeze.
He took cover behind a rack of brand-new, old-looking button-downs.
"I'm the manager," she said, her drawl all about the bump and grind. "So you're in good hands. All of you."
"Niiiice." Qhuinn's mismatched eyes traced down the girl's smooth legs. "Why don't you get to work on him? I'll watch."
Blay stepped up beside John. "Whatever you pick out, I check first, and I'll bring it to him in the dressing room."
John sagged with relief and signed a quick thank-you to Blay for coming to the rescue yet again. The boy's middle name was buffer. For real.
Unfortunately, the manager just smiled even more widely. "Two for one sounds good to me. Check it, I didn't know we were having a sale on man candy tonight."
Okay, this was going to be horrible.
An hour later, though, John was feeling better. Turned out Stephanie, the manager, had a good eye, and once she got into the clothes she chilled out on the come-ons. John got jacked into some sweet ragged jeans, a bunch of those deconstructed button-downs, and a couple of tight muscle shirts, which even he had to admit showed off his guns and his pecs like they were worth seeing. A couple of necklaces were pushed on him, and so was a black hoodie.
When it was done, John went up to the register with the shit draped over his arm. As he put the clothes down, he glanced at a bunch of bracelets in a basket. Within the tangle of leather and shells, there was a flash of lavender, and he weeded through the pile to get to it. Pulling out a woven bracelet with beads the color of Cormia's rose on it, he smiled and surreptitiously put the thing underneath one of the muscle shirts.
Stephanie rang him up.
The total was over six hundred bucks. Six. Hundred. Dollars.
John wigged. He only had about four -
"I've got it," Blay said, handing over a black card and glancing at him. "You can pay me the rest later."
Stephanie's eyes bugged at the sight of the plastic, then narrowed on Blay as if she were changing the price tag on him. "I've never seen a black AmEx before."
"It's no big." Blay started poking through a bunch of necklaces.
John squeezed his friend's arm then knocked on the counter to get Stephanie's attention. He spread his money out, but Blay shook his head and started signing.
Pay me the rest later, okay? I know you're good for it, and let's face it, do you really want to come back here and pick up the shit you can't cover? I don't.
John frowned, finding it hard to argue with that logic. But I'm giving the rest to you, he signed after he handed his four over.
When you have it, Blay returned. Just whenever you have it.
Stephanie whipped the card through the machine, punched in the amount, and waited with her fingertips on the slip. Seconds later there was a chattering sound, and then she ripped the paper off and handed it over to Blay with a blue Bic pen.
"So... we're closing now."
"Are you." Qhuinn leaned a hip against the counter. "And exactly what does that mean?"
"It's just going to be me here. I'm a great boss. I'm letting the others go early."
"But then you'd be all alone."
"I would. It's true. All by myself."
Shit, John thought. If Blay was the buffer, Qhuinn was the king of complication.
The guy smiled. "You know, me and my boys wouldn't feel right about leaving you here on your lonesome."
Oh, yes - yes, they would, John thought. Your boys would feel just great about that.
Tragically, Stephanie's slow smile sealed the deal. They were going nowhere until Qhuinn got into her cash register.
At least he worked fast. Ten minutes later, the store was empty and the chain-link security curtain had been pulled into place in the front. And he was getting pulled by the jeans chain into a lip-lock.
John held on to his two big bags while Blay got busy looking at shirts he'd already looked at.
"Let's go into a dressing room," the manager said against Qhuinn's mouth.
"Perf."
"We don't have to go alone, by the way." The girl looked over her shoulder, her stare landing on John. And staying. "There's plenty of room."
No way, John thought. NFW.
Qhuinn's mismatched eyes sparkled with trouble, and behind the girl's back he signed, Come with us, John. It's time you did this.
Stephanie picked that moment to take Qhuinn's full lower lip between her white teeth and his thigh between her legs. A guy could just imagine the things she was going to do to him. Before he did her.
John shook his head. I'm staying here.
Come on. You can watch me first. I'll show you how it's done.
The fact that Qhuinn was issuing the invite was not a surprise. He regularly had sex in pairs. He'd just never asked John to join in yet.
Come on, John, come back with us.
No, thanks.
A dark look came into Qhuinn's eyes. You can't always be on the sidelines, John.
John looked away. It would have been easier to get pissed at the guy if the same thing didn't occur to him on a regular basis.
"Fine," Qhuinn said. "We'll be back in a while."
With a lazy smile, he slid his hands onto the girl's ass and picked her up. As he walked backward, her skirt rode up so she flashed pink panties and white cheeks.
When the pair was in a dressing room, John turned to Blay to sign something about what a man-slut Qhuinn was, only to stop his hands. Blay was staring off in the direction the two of them had gone with an odd expression on his face.
John whistled low to get his attention. You can go back, you know. If you want to be with them. I'm cool here.
Blay shook his head a little too quickly. "Nah. I'm hanging."
Except his eyes went back to that dressing room and held steady as a moan drifted out. Going by the tenor of the sound, it was hard to know who had made it, and Blay's expression got even tighter.
John whistled again. You okay?
"We might as well get comfortable." Blay went behind the locked cash registers and sat on a stool. "We're going to be here for a while."
Right, John thought. Whatever was bumming the guy was off-limits.
John hopped up on the counter and let his legs dangle. As another moan sounded out, he started to think of Xhex and got hard.
Great. Just fab.
He was pulling his shirt out of his waistband to cover up his little problem when Blay asked, "So who's the bracelet for?"