The Supers Page 2

  “It’s where we can get funding, huh? At some point, my folks want this to be something more than a hobby if I’m gonna keep doing it.”

  Flynn chuckled. “You mean they want you to be able to support yourself? Shocking.” He gave Blaine a wink. Truth was, he’d love to have parents who bugged him about what he was doing with his life.

  “Yeah. Dad’s losing patience. Fast.”

  “I’m sorry. You’re helping out at home, though, aren’t you? I mean if you worked a ‘regular’ job, you wouldn’t be able to be there for them while your mother’s going through this.”

  “Yeah. Totally. I run the store, and I help out at the farm, but… you know. Dad’s a farmer, salt of the earth. Work at dawn, crash at dusk. No ghost chasing.”

  “Unless it’s bringing in cash, huh? Well, hopefully we’ll get a deal, then, and he can relax and let you be.”

  “It’ll happen. We just have to do honest work.”

  “I’m all about data and tracking everything, doing it right.” God, he was a dork too, talking about shop when they were out for supper so they could all get to know each other better. Which he’d already done with the other guys while they were waiting for Blaine. “So are you dating?” Christ, that was subtle. And possibly not entirely appropriate, either.

  “Nope. I’m not really looking for someone at the moment. Things are so busy, so weird.”

  “Yeah. ‘I see ghosts’ makes for a good movie, but not a good opening line, eh?” Flynn got that. He’d learned to keep the fact that he believed in ghosts, had in fact had firsthand experience with them, to himself. His aunt hadn’t wanted to know, and, it turned out, neither had his lovers.

  “Not as a rule,” Blaine agreed. “I’m already the hippie-dippy weirdo with the farm stand.”

  “Some people like that type.” Flynn didn’t have a type. Well, aside from guys of course, but he’d dated all sorts.

  “It’s a rarefied type, for sure.”

  “Some of us like unique and weird and rarefied. We’re all here for the ghost hunting, after all. Normal isn’t exactly our thing, huh?” Was he flirting? He didn’t think so, but he couldn’t seem to stop this line of questioning.

  “I like that, man. That totally works for me.”

  Flynn smiled, but before he could say anything else, their waitress came back with his nachos, and Flynn’s mouth actually watered. God, he was starving.

  “Help yourselves, guys,” he offered.

  They all dug in, the chips and salsa flying fast and free.

  Flynn got enough of it to assuage his hunger until his stew showed up, but man, he was going to have to remember that these guys could eat and could eat with speed.

  He had a few sips of his Guinness, licking the foam from his lips.

  For a second, Blaine’s eyes caught his. He stared, their gazes locked. The moment seemed to build, to stretch between them.

  Oh. Okay. That was… surprisingly hot.

  And short-lived as Darnell banged him on the shoulder. “I said, did you want another beer?”

  “Did you?” Flynn shook his head. “No, I think I’m good for now.”

  “Good deal. Blaine?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Spoilsports.” Darnell laughed and headed toward the bar.

  “He likes his beer, huh?” Flynn chuckled. He couldn’t be that much older than Darnell, but it sure felt like he was.

  Blaine nodded. “He handles it better than anyone I’ve ever met, man. I can have two, maybe three, and I’m toast.”

  “Yeah? I’m a cheap date too,” he admitted.

  “No worries. We always have a designated driver.”

  “Oh yeah? That’s good to know.”

  The waitress came again, this time with food for everyone, and they all dug in. Stew and burgers, french dip—everything smelled like heaven, and his stew tasted amazing.

  Flynn ate bite after bite, scooping it up with the slices of crusty bread that came with it. He moaned happily over the rich and flavorful stew.

  “Is it good? Can I try a bite?” Blaine asked.

  “It’s delicious.” He dipped a corner of the bread into the stew and offered it to Blaine.

  “Thank you. You rock.” Blaine offered some french fries in return.

  “Fair trade.” Flynn grabbed the fries and snarfed them up. Not bad. He could see why the guys hung out here regularly. The food was good.

  “Are you excited about going out with us this weekend? You nervous?”

  “Yes, to both. I don’t know what to expect, how to work with you guys, so there’s some nerves. But this will be my first outing ghost hunting, so yeah, I’m very excited.”

  “We’re going to this old hospital. We’ve gone a couple times already, just to scope it out.”

  He sat forward, his full attention on Blaine. “You get anything interesting?”

  “A couple of EMF spikes. Nothing serious. Not yet.”

  “So you didn’t see anyone? And that’s normal? Does it take time for the ghosts to… trust you?”

  “I don’t know. Sometimes it’s quick, sometimes it takes time. What I do isn’t a science at all, man.”

  “You gonna mind if I take notes and observe and possibly make some correlations?” It was kind of what he did.

  “It’s sort of your job, right? This is what we need from you.”

  Chuckling, he nodded. “I was just thinking that exactly.” He found himself grinning at Blaine, loving that they were in sync.

  “Rock on. We’ll do a trial run on Friday, see how things work, and then film on Saturday.”

  “I’ve got my equipment ready, and I can’t wait.” Flynn knew it was going to be a lot of hurry up and wait, but he was still excited to get started.

  “Me either. Maybe we’ll get some readings, something.” Blaine shrugged. “At least we have permission to be there.”

  “Do you break into places a lot?” They didn’t really want to get arrested for trespassing.

  “No. Sometimes. No, not lots.”

  “Good to hear.” He snagged another bite of bread.

  “Yeah. We go for legal and reasonable. We’re all legit.”

  “I know.” Flynn had looked them up before applying for the job, after all.

  Blaine pinked. “Sorry, I think I’m just really defensive tonight. Ignore me. Maybe I ought to have another beer.”

  “Something happen to put you on edge?” Flynn hoped it wasn’t him—they’d had a good connection so far, and he was pretty sure they’d all been happy to have him join the team, Blaine included. He didn’t think they’d been blowing smoke up his ass.

  “Fight with my dad. Nothing serious—same old shit.”

  “Sorry to hear that. Hey, we could share a dessert. Sweet things can be very cathartic. As long as it’s not chocolate, because then you’re on your own.” Flynn didn’t like chocolate at all. He knew that made him some sort of freak. He wasn’t very fond of bacon either, which probably made him an even bigger freak.

  “You allergic?”

  He shook his head. “I just don’t like the stuff,” he admitted, waiting for the shock, followed by the mocking.

  “Huh. I don’t like mint, so I get it. I’m not allergic or anything. I just don’t like it.”

  Flynn had to grin. He swore he liked Blaine better every second. “A lot of people have random stuff they don’t like, but most of them don’t get not liking chocolate.” He grabbed the little drinks-and-dessert booklet that was propped up at the side of the table against the metal condiments stand and began perusing it.

  “I like it okay, but my thing is pastries. I love flaky bread stuff.”

  “Yeah? They’ve got a cheesecake wrapped in a deep-fried tortilla on the menu here. You wanna share? Not that we need to share a dessert or anything. You can totally have your own. I just know there’s no way I’m going to want the whole thing to myself.” He didn’t have a big enough sweet tooth for that.

  “Why not? We’ll give it a try.”
>
  Darnell laughed, bumped shoulders with him. “Our Blaine’s easy.”

  Flynn tried to ignore the little voice in his head that nudged him and waggled its eyebrows at him over that. Darnell had not meant easy like that, and Flynn was here for business, not fucking.

  He waved the waitress over, willing his cheeks not to heat, and pointed to the decadent deep-fried tortilla cheesecake thing. “One of these with the caramel sauce to share, please.”

  “Sure thing, anyone else want dessert?”

  “Hell yes.” Darnell ordered the apple pie a la mode, while Jason got the Death by Chocolate cake, and Will asked for the peanut-butter cheesecake.

  And Darnell asked for another round of beers, despite the fact he’d brought himself and Will another round from the bar. Flynn didn’t say no, though. Now that’d he’d eaten, and quite a bit at that, he should be fine with another beer. Besides, his hotel was around the corner, so he didn’t have to worry about driving.

  “Are you going to get up and sing when they start karaoke tonight, Blaine?”

  “Shut up, Will.”

  Flynn looked around. He hadn’t noticed the karaoke setup hidden in the corner until Will had mentioned it, but he’d be damned if it wasn’t there. “You sing?” he asked Blaine. He had a passable voice himself, though he tended only to sing while he worked.

  Blaine’s cheeks were bright red, but Will nodded. “He’s good. You have to get him a little lubed up, but people love to hear him.”

  “Just another worthless talent,” he muttered, and Jason frowned.

  “Hey! Stop it, huh? You got this. Your dad’s just super stressed- out right now, and you know it.”

  “Does singing make you happy?” Flynn asked quietly. When Blaine nodded, he added, “So that makes it a good thing, right? And you’ve got another beer coming, so we’ve got lubed up handled. Plus, I’m people, so I’d love to hear you.”

  Will laughed at his tease but nodded. “You can’t deny Flynn the pleasure of listening to you and watching you emote up there on the stage.”

  “Shut up, guys.” Blaine was going to catch on fire any second from the looks of it. Seriously.

  “Do we need him to have that beer that’s on its way before we really put on the pressure?” Flynn asked.

  Jason nodded. “Probably. And if that doesn’t work, we can always drag him up there. We outnumber him.”

  Darnell made this great hooting sound—sort of like a huge owl. “We can be his backup!”

  “I’ll join you after I’ve had a chance to watch a song or two.” Flynn didn’t want to miss it by being onstage with them. He had a hunch this was going to be a real treat. Too bad he only had the camera on his phone to document it with, but that would do in a pinch. He’d bet there was equipment in their van, though. It made him wonder if ghost hunters got mad if you used their equipment for non-ghost-sighting purposes.

  His thoughts were disrupted by the arrival of their desserts, and Flynn had to stare. Every plate was huge. They probably all could have eaten off a single plate and been happy with that, and he was very glad that the tortilla cheesecake wasn’t his alone. It looked amazing, but it also looked like it could feed a family with ten kids.

  He offered a fork and the steak knife the dessert came with to Blaine. “Why don’t you get us started?” He would nibble in around the edges, because now that his supper had had a chance to settle, he wasn’t feeling very hungry anymore. Plus he had the Guinness to finish, and it was a heavy, hearty beer.

  “Are you sure, man?”

  He nodded, and Blaine cut into it, moaning softly as he took the first creamy bite.

  Oh fuck. That was the sexiest thing Flynn had seen in a long time, and he couldn’t help but wonder what that moan would sound like if it was because of a touch. His touch. Stop that, he told himself. Stop it right now. This was a brand-new gig. A whole new thing. He didn’t need to fucking complicate—

  Blaine took another bite and licked his lips.

  Biting back his groan, Flynn looked away, ordering his prick to behave. Maybe he shouldn’t finish that last beer.

  “Your turn.” Blaine pushed the plate over with a grin. “It’s good.

  “Yeah, I gathered that.” He couldn’t help grinning as he pulled the plate over toward him.

  “I’m a sucker for sweets. What can I say?”

  Flynn cut himself a piece and ate it, his eyes half closing at the taste. Damn, that really was groan-worthy. He licked his lips and nodded. “It’s damn good.”

  “See? I don’t lead you wrong, man.”

  “No, you don’t. I’ll be sure to remember that when we’re out on a job.” He ate another piece, the flavor sweet and creamy, the caramel rich and yummy. Okay, add that to the beer and he was in heaven.

  Utter heaven.

  The only thing that would make it better would be if he was going home with Blaine.

  He blinked at himself. Stop that.

  Flynn didn’t even know where home for Blaine was, for God’s sake. With his parents, he assumed. He took a breath and shoved another hunk of the delicious dessert into his mouth. Friends and coworkers. That’s what they were becoming here.

  He had a couple more bites, then passed the dessert back. “You’d better get some more or you’ll miss out completely.

  “One more. Maybe two.” Blaine laughed and scooped up a bunch of whipped cream. “This is the best part.”

  No, Flynn thought maybe the best part was watching Blaine suck the whipped cream off his fingers. Just damn. It was hard to behave when Blaine did things like that.

  “Drink your beer, Blaine man! George is setting up. You can sing ‘Sugar’ first.”

  Flynn grinned. “You’ve got a whole routine, do you?” he teased.

  “I don’t. I really don’t.” Blaine pinked. “I just like to sing.”

  “I’m just teasing. I’m looking forward to it. Honestly.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ll go see how he’s doing.”

  “Oh dude. He’s totally going to sing.” Darnell looked pleased as fuck about that.

  Flynn turned to watch, and Blaine was as pretty going as he was coming. Lean but muscular, and that long hair was cool as fuck. And such a delicious-looking bubble butt.

  He and the guys pulled all the chairs so they were facing the little stage, and Jason nudged him. “Don’t tease him too hard because then it’s forever before he sings again, but he’s really good.”

  “I wouldn’t, man. No way.” After all, Blaine was the front man, right? He had to be something of an entertainer.

  “Good man.” Darnell patted him on the shoulder, and Flynn guessed he was slightly drunk.

  Will had had about twice as much as Darnell but wasn’t nearly as drunk. Strong constitution; good to know.

  Some pretty girl got onstage and sang a Taylor Swift song. Then it was Blaine. Flynn sat slightly forward, watching and waiting with anticipation.

  The Maroon 5 song started, and… shit, they were right. Blaine could sing. His falsetto was high and clear, the notes on pitch. Cool.

  Smiling, Flynn tapped his hand on the table and nodded his head along to the beat. There was something very sexy about Blaine as he sang. Blaine was a natural up there, singing hard, laughing softly in between choruses.

  Flynn began clapping along with the next chorus, Blaine’s happiness infectious.

  “See? He’s good. He’s really good, huh?” Will clapped and danced, obviously into it.

  “He’s fantastic. If he ever wants to give up ghost hunting, I bet he could make money singing.” Flynn didn’t get why Blaine’s dad wouldn’t be supportive of this voice.

  “Until he sees a ghost midsong and freaks out.”

  “Oh man, has that happened?” That would be embarrassing enough here. Flynn could only imagine what it would be like if Blaine was on a big stage in front of a lot of people. It was one thing to be a ghost hunter with a TV show, quite another to be a singer and see ghosts. People would think he was crazy.

>   He’d never thought about that—about how awkward it had to be to sense things that most people didn’t believe in. It wasn’t the same for him. He’d felt his mother’s presence and other stuff when he’d been trying, but he didn’t suddenly have apparitions appearing in front of him.

  That would be weird as hell, wouldn’t it? To see some random ghost, some random person.

  Flynn wondered how real the ghosts looked. Were they ephemeral, or were they more solid? Was it different with every ghost? Because if they looked solid, how would you know they were ghosts and not just other people? God, so many questions. So much to learn.

  He couldn’t wait to go out on their first hunt and get some answers.

  The song came to an end, and Flynn clapped along with everyone else. It had been neat, but he had to admit, he had lost interest in favor of the ghosts. He was a little too focused, maybe. But that was who he was. Finding proof of ghosts, of the supernatural, of spirits—it was his life. Proving that his mother was still with him and not simply living on in his memories.

  All the rest was a distraction.

  Blaine sat down with a plop. “How’d I do?”

  Will sat next to Blaine and put his arm around Blaine’s shoulders. “Awesome as always, man. Awesome as always.”

  Flynn grinned and nodded. “That was pretty cool. And I think you were being modest. You’ve got a great singing voice.”

  “Thanks. I have fun goofing off.”

  “Well, if that’s you goofing off, I can’t wait to see what you do when you’re serious.” Flynn decided this was going to be a good gig, that these guys were legit.

  All in all, he was glad he was here.

  Chapter Three

  “MEL Meter, EMF, Boo Bear—do we have the voice box? Cameras all charged? Backup batteries?” Lord, Jason was ramped up. Blaine hadn’t heard that tone in his voice since they’d broken down over a train track.

  Weird.

  “You okay, buddy?” he asked. Hopefully it was just nerves with Flynn starting tonight.

  “I’m fine,” Jason snapped. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”