Kevin crowed as he dodged a rotten hand, spun, and blew the brain out of a chick with no lower jaw. The phone rang, but he ignored it as he reloaded his shotgun. He blasted another zombie just as the answering machine picked up.

"Answer the damn phone. I know you're there."

Kevin glanced at the machine when he heard Trey's voice. He grumbled and grabbed the cordless, punching the 'talk' button. "What?"

"'Bout time. We're going out tonight."

Kevin snorted and cradled the phone between his left ear and shoulder. Another zombie bit the dust. "No."

"Kev, come on. Allison got the keys to--drum roll, please--Century fucking Hill."

"Uh. No. Wait. Lemme clarify that: hell fucking no."

"Dude. Kev. Beer, weed-"

"And a place known to be haunted," Kevin interrupted.

"Don't worry. We'll stay in the main room--no exploring."

Kevin sighed. "Asshole."

Trey laughed. "I'll be there at five."

Rolling his eyes, Kevin turned off the phone just in time to see his screen go red and his character mobbed by zombies. "Goddamn it."

He exited out of the game, figuring he could write up the report later. He really didn't want to go, but there was no way in hell he could deny Trey. Best friends for nearly six years, Kevin never could resist the man for very long, especially if he could be near the man--even for a little while.

Kevin headed into the kitchen, grabbing the empty pizza box off the coffee table on the way. It was already three-thirty and he still needed a shower.

Damn that pushy, gorgeous bastard for dragging him out.