"Hypothetically where?"

"I don’t know." She bit her lip in a way that suggested she knew exactly what she was doing. "Maybe somewhere private. Where only certain people would see it."

The implication settled between us, impossible to ignore.

"That’s a terrible idea."

"Probably." She hugged the costume to her chest, her fingers playing with the fabric. "But you’d want to see it, right? If I did wear it? Hypothetically?"

Every alarm in my head screamed warnings while simultaneously screaming yes. I looked at Harlow, standing there in her vampire maid outfit with her pink-tipped hair catching the light, holding a costume that would probably give Mr. Patterson a heart attack. She was asking me with those impossibly purple eyes if I wanted to see her in something even more revealing. The question felt like a trap, though the kind of trap I might not mind falling into.

My mouth stayed firmly shut. Nothing good could come from answering that.

"I’m going to check on Iris," I said finally.

"Coward!" But she was laughing, that bright, genuine sound that seemed to follow her everywhere. "Fine! Run away! But you owe me an answer later! I’m not forgetting this!"

I escaped into the hallway before she could corner me into promising anything else. My heart was racing faster than it had any right to, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I could practically hear her satisfied laugh at proving her point. Behind me, her voice called out one last time:

"I’m keeping the succubus option! Just in case!"

The door clicked shut.

I leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath. This house was going to kill me. Not through violence or starvation, but through four identical sisters who’d apparently all decided I was worth pursuing despite every logical reason not to.

I pushed off the wall and started walking. Somewhere in this mansion, my traitorous little sister was eating cookies and laughing at my suffering. I had half a mind to ship her back to Philadelphia immediately.

But first, I needed to survive the rest of this day without accidentally kissing anyone else or agreeing to anything that would get me fired or worse.

Simple. Easy. Totally manageable.

The universe laughed at my optimism as Harlow’s door opened behind me.

"Isaiah! Wait! I forgot to mention!" She leaned out of her doorway, still wearing the vampire costume with its dangerously low neckline and cape that somehow made her look both adorable and dangerous. "The cafe booth needs a butler! To match the maids! And I was thinking you’d be perfect because you already know how to serve drinks and you’re really good with customers and—"

"No."

"You didn’t even let me finish!"

"I didn’t need to. Whatever you’re about to suggest involves me in a costume, which means the answer is no."

"But Zay!" She stepped fully into the hallway now, the cape swirling dramatically behind her. Her bare feet made no sound on the marble as she moved closer. "You’d look so amazing in a butler costume! The tailcoat would fit you perfectly, and with your hair and the way you already do that whole mysterious thing naturally... Please? Pretty please?"

She clasped her hands together in front of her chest. The position pushed her breasts up against the costume’s already precarious neckline. I looked at a spot on the wall behind her head.

"Harlow. I am not dressing up as a butler for your festival booth."

"Not even for me?" Another step closer. The overhead light caught in her wine-red hair, making the pink highlights shimmer. "Not even if I ask really, really nicely? With my best pleading face?"

"Especially not then. That’s emotional manipulation."

"But everyone else is dressing up! Even Felix said he’d wear the costume! You’ll be the only one in normal clothes!"

"Good. I’ll blend in."

"You won’t blend in." She walked closer, barefoot on the marble. "You never blend in. Not anymore."

She was right. I knew she was right. Three weeks ago I’d been invisible, another scholarship kid grinding through Hartwell. Now I drove a borrowed Lexus, wore tailored suits, and showed up in gossip sites as a mysterious Valentine companion.

"I’ll think about it," I said, which was a mistake.

Harlow’s face lit up like I’d promised her the moon. "Really?"

"I said I’d think about it. Not that I’d do it."

"Thinking about it is progress!" She hugged me suddenly, pressing against me in her vampire costume. "Thank you! You’re the best!"

I stood very still, arms at my sides, trying not to notice how the costume’s fabric felt thin between us. How warm she was. How she fit against me like she’d been designed for this exact purpose.

"You can hug me back," she whispered against my chest. "I won’t bite."

The words hung there for a moment. Her warmth pressed into me through the thin fabric of her costume. I could feel her breathing, could smell whatever strawberry-scented thing she’d put in her hair earlier.

One hug. That’s all this was.

I lowered my arms and wrapped them around her shoulders. She made a small sound of satisfaction and somehow managed to press even closer, like she’d been waiting for permission. The cape pooled around both of us now. She fit against me in a way that felt natural and dangerous at the same time.

"See?" Her voice was muffled against my shirt. "Not so bad."

It wasn’t. That was the problem.

"But I lied about one thing." She shifted slightly, tilting her head up to look at me. Those purple eyes were bright with mischief.

"What’s that?"

"The biting part."

The words took a second to register. By the time they did, she’d already moved. Her face turned toward my neck. I felt the brush of her lips first, soft against my skin, then the warm, wet pressure of her tongue tracing a line over my pulse.

My entire body went rigid.

What the hell—

"I vant to suck yer blood!" The accent was terrible, exaggerated, straight out of a bad B-movie. Then she opened her mouth and bit down on my neck.

Not hard. Just enough pressure to make me feel it. Just enough to make my brain stutter and crash like someone had pulled the power cable.

Her mouth stayed there. Warm. Wet. She was sucking on the spot she’d just bitten, tongue working in slow circles that sent heat straight down my spine and into places it absolutely should not be going.

My hands tightened on her waist without permission. "Harlow."

"Shh." She didn’t pull away. Her breath ghosted over the damp skin. "Just a little taste."