Free The Gravedigger's Brawl by Abigail Roux

didn’t do that while I was screwing it,” Ash said distantly. Caleb turned to look at him, and Ash glanced back and blinked. “What?”
    Caleb just shook his head and turned away.
    Ash frowned, pulling at his ear as he heard the odd drumming sound echoing from somewhere above. It was probably just adrenaline, but as he peered toward the ceiling, a feeling of dread seeped into him. He looked away as a shiver ran through his body, determined not to let the ghost stories get to him.

    â€œThat’s sort of near brilliant, Wy,” Noah said. He popped open a bag of Cheetos and scooted his chair closer to the lunch table.
    Wyatt had laid out his tentative plans for the October exhibition, including Ash’s suggestion that they display the popular myth to draw people in, then tell the truth behind it with artifacts to suit their goal of actually educating.
    â€œIt’s going to take some hellacious research, though. It’s already the first. Do we have time to have it up and running by the weekend?” Noah asked.
    â€œIf we know where to start, I think we can get it outlined in a few days. Then we can enlist some students to help put it all together. It should be ready by then. It’s perfect. It has the pandering aspects the Trustees seem to want, it’ll have a low artifact count, and it’ll bring in crowds that wouldn’t usually look twice at a museum. And we can actually put some real history into it to keep it respectable. Maybe even convert some interest in places.”
    â€œAsh helped you come up with this?” Noah asked, smirking as he leaned back in his chair.
    â€œUm, sort of.” Noah raised an eyebrow, and Wyatt sighed and lowered his head. “The other night . . .”
    Noah grinned cheekily. “Do tell.”
    â€œI went home with him. We slept together,” Wyatt blurted, looking around to make sure no one had heard him.
    â€œI figured. And?”
    â€œI didn’t . . . really stick around ’til morning,” Wyatt admitted.
    Noah’s smile fell and his brow furrowed. “Oh.”
    â€œI just panicked a little about—”
    Noah held up a hand and shook his head. “Happens to the best of us, man. Don’t explain.”
    â€œI went to see him this morning. Tried to apologize.”
    Noah’s eyebrows shot up. “How’d that go?”
    â€œNot too well. Hey,” he added, eyes narrowing as Noah’s lips twitched. “It’s not funny.” But his voice trembled with a laugh.
    â€œNo, not at all.” Noah snickered a little, leaned back in his chair, and covered his mouth with his hand.
    â€œI feel awful, okay? I really liked him.”
    Noah’s smile faded. “What exactly did he say when you talked to him?”
    â€œHe seemed more pissed about my flushing the condom than about me actually leaving.”
    Noah threw his head back and laughed, rocking back in his chair and sliding both hands over his face.
    â€œNoah!” Wyatt hissed as several heads turned and looked at them. Wyatt leaned closer to Noah, frowning. “It’s not funny.”
    Noah was still snickering as he shook his head. “It really kind of is. So wait, you discussed your one-night stand and his plumbing, I assume you did so heatedly because Ash has a little bit of a temper on him, and then you . . . what, sat down and fleshed out ideas for the exhibition over a latte?”
    â€œNot exactly.”
    â€œSo Ash didn’t exactly offer to help,” Noah said, eyes narrowing.
    â€œNot . . . exactly. I figured we’d go do the ghost tour and see . . .”
    â€œSo. You want the two of us to traipse over to the bar where the guy you screwed over is working and nance around until the ghost tour starts tonight? What, you’re rubbing it in his face?”
    â€œNo! I wouldn’t do that!” Wyatt stopped short and frowned. “Is that how he’ll see it?”
    â€œI