1. Casper #2
I hear the rolling wheels of a cart approach behind me and an inaudible whisper pass between Bates and Kol.
I wonder if she'd want to go on a date with me.
Whatever she wants to do, I’m in.
“Well, I mean—”
She sticks her hand up in the air, cutting me off with a curl of her lips. “I didn’t actually care. Stop staring at me.”
Raising my hands in defeat, I can’t help the shit-eating grin that stretches across my lips. Immediately, her eyes fall to it, and the slightest pink hue colors her cheeks.
“My apologies.” Nodding in surrender, I lower my hands and tuck them into my jogger pockets. “It was hard not to. You’re gorgeous.”
Her face softens, only for a second, but long enough to give me a glimpse behind those intense fortress walls that have been sky-high this entire interaction.
“Compliments won’t get you anywhere with me, pretty boy. And this conversation has gone on long enough. Thanks though.” She gestures with her hands for me to continue on my way, standing her ground in front of an impressive array of face paints with no intention of leaving.
Biting down on my bottom lip, I feel a giddiness in my next few steps as the three of us head to the paper aisle. “Shit.”
Bates pats my back. “Damn. That was tough to watch.”
Kol chuckles, immediately trying to cover it up with a fake cough.
“I hate you both.” I groan. “Go pick out paper, and I’ll meet you by the stickers. I’ll be right back.”
“Leave the girl alone, Cas. She’s clearly not interested.” Bates encourages me to behave, and I fully intend to … for now.
“First of all, that’s rich, coming from you, Mr. I Pursued My Coach’s Daughter as Her Masked Man. Then spent six months stalking her and infiltrating her life with hidden cameras. You did a phenomenal job at leaving that girl alone.”
He clenches his jaw, amusement in the flicker of his smile.
“Secondly, I’m not going to bother her.”
Before they can add any new smart-ass comments or concerns, I spin on my heel and head to the register, where one of the older ladies who works here is sitting in her chair, sorting scraps of fabric.
She greets me with the kindest smile. “All ready to go?”
“Not quite.” I dig my wallet out of my sweats. “This might sound like an odd request. But there’s a girl shopping in here—black hair, tights, tattoos of dancing skeleton fairies. She’s a … friend of mine. Can you use this to purchase her haul? Just give her the leftover change.”
I hand her three hundred-dollar bills, and she takes them with a beat of hesitation, mulling my words over in her mind.
“Oh, well, yes. I can absolutely do that. How sweet.”
“Thank you so much.” I pull another two hundred-dollar bills out and hand them to her, grabbing her name from her badge. “This is for you. Thanks, Paula.”
Immediately, she’s flustered, her fingers frozen for a moment before reaching tentatively forward again. “Are you … sure? Oh my gosh. I probably shouldn’t.”
I push the money into her hand and release it. “Don’t make me fight you, Paula. You seem like a nice lady.”
This earns me a genuine laugh from her and snaps her from her stupor. Watery blue eyes flick up to mine, and she reaches for my hand.
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” she says, a slight crack in her sweet voice.
“Of course. Thanks for your help.” I wink at her, and she shoos me away with the backs of her hands before tucking the money in her apron.
It takes me a short walk across the store to find the guys with a stock of supplies lining the bottom few inches of the cart.
“Oh good. I was worried you guys wouldn’t find anything.”
“Some of us are actually committed to this project and not busy flirting with older ladies at the registers.” Bates chuckles, turning to face me with a devilish smirk. “What was that about anyway?”
If there’s anyone in the world who won’t make me feel guilty or crazy for my actions, it’s these two fuckers. We’re the three psycho musketeers—we have been since forever.
“I was just giving my friend Paula some money to cover the firecracker’s purchase. And then I gave her a tip. Nothing crazy.” I grin. “Warning: Watch your mouth about my friend, Paula. She’s a sweet gal.”
“Did you get the girl’s name at least? Or do anything productive in learning who she is?” Kol challenges, dropping a pack of puffy Halloween stickers into the cart.
I swear that man only knows how to be a dick most days.
“No. I’m playing the long game. First, I’m mending the bridge and offering her money.”
“Like a prostitute,” Kol adds, straight-faced.
My eyes slam shut, and I pinch the bridge of my nose. “No. Fucking no.” My heart drops, and I gasp, my wide gaze finding Kol’s again. “Oh God, is that what she’s going to think?”
Kol nods with a mock saddened expression. “Probably, yeah. That’s how I’d feel. Bates?”
Bates is already nodding, siding with him. “A really nice prostitute. If it were me, I’d be flattered that you were trying to buy my time.”
“Fuck both of you.” Closing the distance to them, I grab the handle of the cart with both hands so that I don’t strangle them to death.
Thankfully, they offer me a slight reprieve as they finish picking out stickers before moving on to ribbons.
I never would’ve imagined that we’d have craft nights together, and I can’t help but laugh at the image of us big guys making handmade cards.
But we do, and we did, especially to help Bates out when he was pursuing Serena.
And just like how we’re going to do when I finally figure out the love of my life’s name.
But sadly, that day isn’t today because she’s gone when we finally check out, as is the Honda Civic, which I can now assume is hers. At least her license plate is easy to remember and very fitting.
Unfortunately, that glorious day also isn’t tomorrow or the rest of this week.
By the time the next week rolls around without seeing her again, I start to worry that I never will, until I meet with Clara, The Schrader House Manager, at the house and spot a car parked on the property. Which is surprising, given how well it’s hidden.
It’s tucked in the back bushes, and it must have been sitting here for a while. The vines are growing around it, offering an additional layer of camouflage. Every inch of it is shielded from view, all but a corner of a license plate that reads BIT3.
I guess I didn’t have to find her after all. She came right to me, and now there’s no way in hell I’m letting her slip away again.