Contradictions (Woodfalls Girls 3)

A hard look crossed his face and I turned away. Chuck was nothing but a blowhard.

My amusement disappeared when Trent stepped between us. I placed a hand on his shoulder, not relishing the idea of scraping him off the floor after Chuck was done pounding him.

Chuck looked like he wanted to say something else, but with a small audience of customers, he thought better of it. “Whatever,” he said, shaking his head as he walked out of the store.

I let out a pent up breath and turned to Trent, ready to tell him we had dodged a bullet. I was surprised to see he was looking at me incredulously.

“What?” I asked, placing my costume on the counter.

He shook his head. “You seemed relieved that your pal left without saying anything else.”

“One, he’s not my pal. Two, I’m relieved that he didn’t accept your silent, but unnecessary challenge. He would have wiped the ground with you.” I took my bag from the cashier and walked toward the exit.

“I’m insulted,” Trent said, following me.

“Don’t be. Chuck is a big lug. He’d put most guys on their asses,” I said, climbing into the car.

Trent closed my door and walked around to his own side. “How do you know I can’t take care of myself, especially when defending my woman?”

I raised my eyebrows. It was sweet that he was willing to stick up for me, but I wasn’t crazy about him thinking I was his girl. I chose to ignore him as I buckled my seat belt.

“So, is that it?” I asked as he started the car and backed out of the parking space. Sure, the date was unconventional and didn’t exactly feel like any of the dates I’d ever gone on, but until we ran into Chuck I had been having fun, which had been sadly lacking in most of my dates.

“You don’t seriously think the date’s over, do you? I’m not letting you off that easily. I haven’t even fed you yet.”

“I hate to break it to you, geeky, but you’re not going to find any restaurants open this late unless you’re thinking fast food,” I said, pulling out my phone to show him the time.

“That works perfectly.” He looked unconcerned, pulling out of the parking lot.

“Taco Bell?” I teased, trying to come up with places that were open late. I had plenty of after-party experience with that.

He shook his head.

“Wendy’s?”

“No way, I hate that place,” he said.

“What?” I asked, completely scandalized. “How can you hate Frosties? I think that’s classified as un-American. They’re perfect to dip french fries in.”

“They’re overrated. Give me a chocolate shake any day. Gross on the fry thing, though,” he said, turning down several side streets that were lined with warehouses.

“No way. Fries dipped in ice cream should be added as a food category.” I peered out the window as he slowed the vehicle down and turned into a gravel parking lot behind a nondescript building. The exterior paint of the building was peeling so badly that the industrial steel beneath it gleamed in the moonlight. It had definitely seen better years, like twenty or thirty years ago.

I would have thought I was in an episode of Dexter and Trent was leading me to a plastic-draped room if not for the relatively full parking lot.

“Ready for phase two of our date?”

15.

“We’re eating here? I’m not much into rats and bugs,” I quipped, climbing from the vehicle. I eyed the building with interest. I was definitely intrigued. I didn’t know of any raves in this area of town. I was doubtful it was anything like that considering it was Trent who had brought me here.

I mentally ran through a list of things that could possibly be hiding beyond the double doors he was leading me to, but my brain was blank. He pushed the door open for me, guiding me into a dark hallway. Maybe this was a haunted house. My friends and I had gone to one near here last year. It was strange there were no signs, but I prepared myself for someone to jump out at me at any moment. The hallway was dimly lit by industrial-looking outdoor lights like you might find on a construction site. They were attached to the walls with S hooks and connected by heavy-duty cords.

My haunted house theory went out the window when we’d walked the entire length of the hallway without a zombie, ax murderer, or mummy jumping out at us. I was a little disappointed since a haunted house would have been pretty awesome in this building.

We reached the end of the hall and turned right to face a large wooden door that had a small peep slot. Trent knocked on the door twice before the little window opened and a very round face with a nose that looked like a squished tomato peered out at us.

“Password?”