Page 68 of Your Masked Haunting

My mom and dad stand from the sofa.

My mom scolds us like we’re kids again, “Keep fighting, and you’ll both go into time-out.”

“See what you did.” I scoff. “Getting us in trouble in front of my girl.”

Cambrie flips me off as she hops up from the chair and walks over to Mona, pulling her in for a hug that Mona eagerly accepts. “Please call or text anytime. We need to get together, not just with my brother either.”

“I’d love that,” Mona murmurs as she pulls away.

I wrap my arm around Mona’s shoulders, flattening my hand on her collarbone and pulling her back flush against my chest. “Get your own friends. You can’t steal my girlfriend.”

“Watch me,” she snaps back.

Perfection, that’s how natural this entire night has felt, how seamlessly Mona fits in with my family. I had no doubts about that though. She was destined to be a Ridley.

“Oh, Mona, it was so great meeting you.” My mom pulls her from my embrace and into one of her own. “I’m sure we’ll see you soon. Will you be at the game tomorrow?”

Mona shakes her head as she rears back. “No, I have to work tomorrow. But I checked the schedule, and I’ll be at the next one.”

“You will?” The words fall from my lips in a shocked and enthusiastic whisper.

She peers up at me, relaxed shoulders and bright eyes. “I will.”

“You guys are seriously too cute.” Cambrie beams. “Cas, don’t fuck it up.”

“Cam,” my mom scolds her for cursing, as if we’re not all adults.

A classic Minnesotan goodbye drags on for the next ten or fifteen minutes, and then we say another wave of farewells at the door. Eventually, I manage to wrangle a slightly wine-drunk Mona into my car, and then I pull out of the gated driveway and community.

“That was the best night ever,” Mona sighs with the biggest smile as she melts into the seat, her pretty face illuminating up every few seconds from the streetlights as we drive.

“I’m glad you had fun,” I coo, reaching my hand over and settling it on her bare thigh.

She throws her arms up and out, a small squeal leaving her. Okay, maybe she’s more wine drunk than I realized.

I merge onto the freeway as she turns the radio up and starts singing along to some new song that I don’t recognize. We should be going straight here for twenty-ish miles. The stage is all hers.

The song changes, something more sensual and racier taking its place. She dances to it, swaying her body and turning to me. With two fingers, she prances them from my wrist, up my arm, and onto my shoulder.

“What are you doing?” My question leaves me as she reaches down and unbuckles her seat belt.

She shushes me as she lifts and bends her legs, kneeling in the seat to face me.

“Mona, put your seat belt on.”

“Shh. I’m talking right now.” She puts her hand over my mouth, and I try to ignore the way my cock twitches in my jeans at her confidence.

Sitting up taller, she moves the hand over my mouth around the top of my shoulder and behind my neck, sliding her other one across my chest until her lips are hovering against my ear.

She exhales, her warm breath sending tingles down my neck. “I like you so goddamn much, Casper. It consumes me.”

Oh my fucking God.

My cock pulses, all of my blood pooling straight to it. Inhaling, she breathes me in, and I have to try incredibly hard to focus on the road.

“You should get in your seat.” My voice does little to hide the effect she’s having on me, and if anything, it’s only making her more feral and crazed.

The tip of her tongue flicks out, running up the shell of my ear, and I shudder, my jeans getting tighter by the second.