Page 29 of Who The Hell Are You?

It feels like we've been doing this forever, maybe hours; but really it hasn't even been a minute. Cass pulls away first, but he doesn't move far and keeps his hand on my cheek. His eyes are a stormy dark brown, the amber gone.

“Miley…” he whispers and I lean in again to give him one more kiss, before sitting back fully in my chair. The coffee shop bustle continues on around us, I'm sure time resumed from this life altering moment. I know I won't ever let this beautiful man go, not without kicking and screaming.

“You're so kind. Thank you.” I clear my throat, pulling his hand down into my lap, not missing the way his eyes gleam when he looks over the drinks and my new book. I’m still holding the plushie with my other hand and I even give that a squeeze, tucking it into my lap so I can take a sip of my coffee. Sweet pumpkin spice gods above. “This is lovely.” I tip my head to my drink and he takes a sip of his own.

“I’ve never been here before, but I had a feeling you’d love it.”

“You assumed correctly. I love it here.” Looking over the book again, I turn it over and read the blurb, then look at the fan art inside. “Did you know this is on my reading list?” I raise my eyebrow, watching his lips twist into a smirk.

“No, but I thought I wouldn’t go wrong getting you something paranormal. Did I do good?”

I laugh. “Yep. Boy did gooooood.” Taking a giant bite out of the gingerbread man, I settle into my chair and we fall into comfortable conversation. Our legs constantly brush together as we talk, sip our coffees and I show him little details in the hardback. My plushie sits crushed into my stomach, my hands protecting it like it’s a little kitten. He asks me more questions about the vampire story I’m writing for my course, and I explain how it feels like a beginning, rather than just a project I’ll get marked on.

“You think you’ll continue it into a series?”

I nod, finishing the last sips of my pumpkin spice. “Yeah, I’m toying with how to end it because I have so many ideas for stand alone, but also a three part book series. My tutor said it’s my own work so I can do what I want with it—I could even try getting it published if I wanted.”

“That would be so cool if you did.”

“I know right! At the moment I’m just trying to focus on writing and acing everything I need for my course. You know, enjoy the process.” Cass squeezes my hand, and for once I feel fully supported in something I chose for myself.

11

It's been a couple of days since our coffee date and the mind melting kiss, but now I'm standing in the shadows of Cassie's garden, waiting for Emery and Harris to leave. They've been shuffling around going room to room gathering their things, but finally they're both heading out, leaving their house mate all alone.

After walking me home like the gentleman he is and kissing me stupid on my porch–Micah had witnessed the entire thing and squealed through the letter box–we’d arranged to see each other in the week, but I wanted more.

After class today, I’d headed home to finish one of my reading assignments, but couldn't resist scrolling the good bank of videos Inkedreaper had now. Jesus, Cass was so fucking hot. There sat a new post that I hadn't seen and it had me feeling feral, a common theme amongst all his followers. Trust me, I didn't anticipate how quickly a masked thirst trap account would grow, and we were both climbing the numbers closer to our goal. I didn't foresee how commenters would offer themselves on a platter either, but I was only interested in one other human being. People begged to be interacted with and whilst I did like some comments, I thought it best to set the rule to never reply or private message. Keep the boundary, in case anyone tried to dig into who was behind the mask.

Cass on the other hand had fucking commented back to someone, and I didn't know whether I wanted to throttle them, or him. Username Ladywhiskers–I don't even want to know–commented on the new video of him dripping water down his abs, the lilac glow of his mask the only thing illuminating the scene, to say she’d lick him dry. He replied with a cat emoji.

Not. Fucking. Acceptable.

The moment I see both the guys get into one of the cars parked on the street, I step away from the back fence and bushes, taking the opportunity to slip into the house because Emery certainly did not lock the door after himself.

I can hear the hiss of the shower through the closed door, as I slip once again into his bedroom. Cassie is neat for a guy in his twenties at university; his room is comforting, which just won't do for what I have planned. Unknown to how long I have, I drop the backpack I brought with me by the double bed, wasting no time in setting up for my perfect revenge. He might not love it at first, but I'm going to edge him till he's past the point of begging. Maybe then he'll understand not to flirt with random people on the internet via emojis.

Grabbing a battery powered light source, I turn out the lamp by his bed and cast the room into a hellish red glow. The shadows seem to grow bigger, nails racking along the floor ready to nip at my feet. I keep the rest of my supplies in the backpack, but I pull out the ghostface mask. I don't have any tattoos or weird scares that he could trace back to me, so I take off all my clothes apart from my trousers, before slipping the mask over my head. The mouthpiece is bulky and annoying against my cheek, but I've read enough stalker romances to know it gets a little weird when the masked guy can't speak in fear of giving himself away. Duh–rule one of the hidden identity trope; don't get caught. Only seconds after I've slipped the mask on do I hear the water shut off and it's go time.

Positioning myself at the end of the bed with my legs spread wide, I patiently wait, hoping to god he notices the red light emanating from his bedroom and doesn't come in here frightened for his life. Yeah I want to scare him a little, but only because I've seen how his pupils dilate and his body becomes so eager for me in this mask. Him being scared isn't what gets my dick hard, it's the eagerness I see coming out of him piece by piece in this little masked game we have going on.

His bedroom door isn't fully shut, and my heart picks up when I hear the soft pad of bare feet on carpet and the door slowly creeps open. I noticed Cassie's damp curls first, dark as night, before inches of tattooed skin only stopped by a pair of tight black boxers. He looks like he's risen from the underworld, naked just for me. I've seen his body obviously in the thirst traps, but in person he's a piece of fucking art. God damn!

He can't see through the mask, but finally I focus on his eyes at the moment it seems to register who is in his bedroom.

“Boo, Baby.” I wiggle my fingers in a hello, and his eyebrows hit his wet hair line. His foot lifts and I assume he's going to take a step back, but to my giddy delight his body seems to pull him forward.

“What are you doing here?” He stammers, his voice husky from the effect this clearly has on him. He flexes a little too; his brain at war with his body which very much wants to dive onto the bed and play. I’m officially a Casper body language analyst and can confirm it would be in his best interest to do so.

“We should play a little game.”

“Yeah I'm not into those types of movies.” He says, closing his bedroom door and locks it, the click echoing. I cock my head and watch him walk across his room, less skittish than when we were both here last.

“Not a horror movie fan?” My voice is distorted from the voice box, the drawl crackling like I'm straight out of scream.

He shrugs, “Not really. I like thrillers, classic movies, maybe ghosts or Frankenstein? Not gore though. Not my thing.”

I'm surprised, especially since I assumed wanting to be a vet meant he wasn't squeamish. There must be another reason for his dislike, but I can't ask him or mention I know he's training to be a vet, without giving it away that I know him personally.