The cold breeze forced the partygoers closer to the raging bonfire, but Clara kept to the fringe, leaning against a barren tree as she identified as many Halloween costumes as she could over the rim of her foam cup. Holding her hands around the cup’s warmth wasn’t enough to distract her from the chill, but she couldn’t bring herself to mingle, either.
She was beyond ready to go home.
But then her friend’s eyes met her own, and Clara gulped down more drink. No, she’d promised Jamie one night of fun. Even if drinking her warm drink at home watching another cheesy B-horror movie sounded so much more fun than . . . whatever this is.
She adjusted her flimsy coat, regretting her nurse costume. It was legs for days, something Jamie insisted on, and would have been much cuter at an inside party.
“Doctor, huh,” a low voice purred from behind Clara, and she jumped, sloshing hot cocoa over her fingers as she spun to face the cop.
Fluffy handcuffs dangled off his costume belt, and Clara flushed harder as she apologized over her spill. But the doctor only smirked, helping her clean her fingers with tissues then pulling her fingers to his lips.
“Want to head inside? It’s warmer there,” he hummed.
Her flush deepened as she nodded. The way her heart nearly jumped from her chest was almost criminal as she followed after him. Maybe it was good she came after all.
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