21. Casper #2
“What?” I scoff. “You thought those cards just made themselves?”
She chuckles again. “I mean, no, but I wasn’t expecting a full-fledged room.”
“I’ll have you know, we take our Craft Club very seriously.” I slide my hand down her wrist, taking her hand in mine. “I’ll show you.”
“A quick peek, then shower, then bed. It’s four a.m.”
She giggles as I pull her behind me, leading the way out of my bedroom and down the hall, opening the door and exposing all of my secrets.
Bounding through the threshold, she devours it with her eyes, her jaw halfway to the floor. The bins of sorted paper, the basket of premade ghost cards waiting for a message to be stamped inside.
She leads herself on a self-guided tour, past the gift bags and unwrapped presents to the two monitors, the screens filled with static where the usual camera feed of the house would be. But in case of this very moment happening, I didn’t want her to see any of it, so I paused them all from my app.
Her head whips back around at me, her mouth forming a word she doesn’t believe she’s asking. “We? You said we.”
Well, I knew this time was coming. “There’s a few … Craft Club members. We help each other out sometimes, making cards, enacting plans. We’re a little family.”
Humor lifts her features—the curve of her mouth, and the bruises still forming on her cheeks. “So, they know about all of this?” She gestures between us.
Rubbing the back of my neck, I sigh. “Yeah, not the details of our relationship, but the overall aspects. The mask. The cards.”
“Am I the first?” she murmurs, a hesitancy in her voice that draws me near her.
“The first what?” I close the distance between us, trailing my finger across the top of her shoulder.
Her eyes dart around before finally landing on mine. “The first girl you’ve pursued with all of these bells and whistles.”
“Yes. You are one hundred percent the only one. You were the only outcome, or I would’ve been single forever.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m sure.”
Tipping her chin up, I hold her stare. “You are it for me, Mona Greer. You have been since you cursed me out at Moore’s Crafts.”
Her cheeks redden, and she smirks, playfully shoving my chest, striding past me and stopping at the table full of gifts I have yet to give her. “Did you rob Santa?”
“Santa wishes he had presents this good,” I scoff, grabbing a bag I know contains panties that she’s probably going to want after our shower. “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up.”
Taking her hand in mine, I lead us back to the master bath, turning on the hot water. I peel my T-shirt off, kicking my sweats to the floor.
She’s quiet—too quiet—and I turn to her, finding her staring in the mirror with tears welling in her eyes.
“I-I hadn’t seen these yet.” Her fingers hover over the bruises on her neck, traveling up to the marks on her face.
“Hey, hey, hey.” I walk behind her, sliding my hands over her hips and slowly spinning her around, away from the mirror. She peers up at me, a cutting vulnerability in her gaze. “They’ll fade. They just need a little time.”
I can’t imagine what’s going through her mind, what’s haunting her thoughts. Facing that man alone must’ve been horrifying, but she fought, and she survived. That's what matters most.
She nods slowly, swallowing her tears back down. She’s strong. I know she’ll get through this. As for the guy, I want to fill her in on everything I know so far, but I want to wait until tomorrow, until it’s not four a.m. and she’s gotten some sleep.
“Shower?” I ask simply, and after a beat, she nods.
Slipping my fingers under the hem of her shirt, I lift it up, easing it off her head and arms with her help. The bralette is next, and I unclasp it at the back.
As I lean down, hooking my thumbs in her leggings, she uses my shoulders for balance as I slide them down her legs, her panties right along with them, tugging her socks off in the process.
I quickly strip my boxers off before taking her hand in mine and pulling her toward the massive shower, pulling the steamed-up door open and letting her lead the way inside.
The overhead showerhead and the one on the side wall rainwater down her body. A shiver runs through her as she sticks her palm up, feeling the water, and I reach for the shampoo bottle I bought on the occasion she stays here.
Squeezing the bottle, I squirt a good amount into my hand as she turns to face me. I tip her head back and saturate her hair. I walk around her, my back cold in the absence of water. But I don’t care.
Rubbing my hands together, I shift my body, blocking the few streams from hitting her hair so I can massage this in.
“You know I can do that myself—”
“Shh,” I hush her, sinking my fingers into her hair and massaging her scalp. “Remember that crippling independence of yours? You don’t have to do everything yourself. That’s what I’m here for.”
The tightness in her neck relaxes, her head moving freely with my hands as I continue to work the soap in. “It feels really nice.”
“Good,” I hum, shifting out of the stream so the water starts to wash the soap away. Taking the excess, I run my fingers through my blond locks.
Once the shampoo is gone from both of our heads, I move on to the conditioner, taking extra care applying it to her hair with another massage before adding some to my hair.
As the conditioner sets, I lather up a loofah, running it all over every inch of her body, sneaking a few tickles into the routine just to hear her giggle.
I start mine next, but she steals it from me, cleaning up and down my body as best she can.
And by the time I finish rinsing the conditioner out of both our hair, she’s putty in my hands.
“You know, I could get used to this.”
“Oh, really?” I chuckle with a shit-eating grin. “Anytime. Truly, anytime. I would be honored.”
She giggles, and I kill the shower, grabbing a couple of towels from the warmer.
“My lady.” I unroll it, wrapping one around her shoulders and the other around her body, tucking it in on itself.
“Oh, that’s niiiice,” she exhales, pulling the upper one tighter around her.
“I’ll always have hot towels at the ready for you.” I grin, securing mine low on my hips.
“Careful, I might get used to this princess treatment.”
“Good.” I wink at her. “That’s the point.”
Her flush deepens across her cheeks and neck, and I grab the towel off her shoulders, gently drying off her skin.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
She watches me in the mirror, and I glance at her with a smirk.
“I’m drying you off, duh. And then I’m going to massage lotion into your skin, especially since the weather’s cooling off and drying out more and more lately.”
Awe is the only word to describe the look on her face as I make good on my promise, taking my time. But not for too long because there will be more moments like this. We’ve got a lifetime of them.
She’s yawning when I finish brushing her hair, and I get as much water out as possible without a hair dryer before helping her into her panties and my T-shirt.
I walk out of the bathroom, dry and naked, slipping on a pair of loose shorts to sleep in, opting out of a shirt. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”
Mona crawls onto the sheets, slipping under the comforter with ease, like she’s done it a million times before. “I’m so sleepy.”
The moment I’m beside her, I pull her back into my chest, wrapping my arms around her waist and locking her in place. “Get some sleep, baby.”
Nodding, she leans further back against me, any distance nonexistent. “I love you.”
My heart skips a beat, and I suck in a sharp breath.
I wasn’t planning on telling her tonight.
I didn’t want her to think that I was only doing it because of what happened.
But retrospectively, that’s dumb. Moments like this are when you face your fears, insecurities, or doubt and tell the people you care about that you love them.
I press a kiss against her hair, every fiber of my being warm and happy. “I love you too, Scaredy-Cat.”