You Taste Like Cigarettes and Hurricanes

Whenever those wildly famous authors all over social media wrote about golden retriever energy men, they all had to have been thinking about Austin. It was genuinely impossible to harbor any kind of negative feeling towards him which was saying something because Scarlett usually had a lot of negativity in store for just about anyone. So she sighed in an attempt to keep her own face from catching the grin off of his - she still had a vibe to keep up, after all. “Yes,” she reiterated. “It’ll be fun. Cocktails, music. Bikinis.”

People would probably say he imagined the ghost of a smile on Scarlett's face, but Austin would call them wrong. He felt like he knew her better than anyone at this point. "You got me sold on bikinis," He admitted with a laugh, scooting closer to her. "I can't wait to see you in yours, Scarlett. You'll be the prettiest girl there, in the best bikini ever."

“I bet the roof’s still there to smoke on,” she grinned. There was nothing that couldn’t be a possible adventure to Riley, even if it was just sneaking around a bunch of old, moldy houses. Anything was better than sitting around in a cushy room doing nothing, anyway. “And since apparently nobody cool has visited in the past decade, I’m sure those ghosts are just chomping at the bits to have someone to talk to. Imagine all that ghost gossip with nowhere to go.”

"I can't help but wonder that you're trying to get me to a secluded rooftop away from the rest of society for a reason," Whitney joked, though she also was bitten by the adventure bug. "We should punt some golf balls from it too, a couple of the doctors I liase with at the morgue go to relax. And it felt wrong to recommend smoking to them." She joked, giving her friend a nudge. "Maybe we can help the poor, trapped souls move on."