3. Chapter 3
Keeping the ghostfaced stranger a secret from my girlfriend didn't feel good, but I also didn't want to scare her since he didn't show up again outside her window.
I made sure, staying the entire weekend at her place, barely sleeping whilst I kept checking outside.
Mask play was off the table and I'd quickly removed it from my face, when she appeared at her window on Friday. My skin flushed just thinking about the entire thing, but more so, I couldn't stop marveling at my reaction. The empty space my mind had slipped into and how I’d let a complete stranger grind on me against a tree. Luckily Grace hadn’t wanted to have sex, I don't think I could have even performed if she'd wanted to.
Ghostface plagued my mind, my annoyance only building until I had to excuse myself off to the gym just to release some of the pent up rage.
Why was I so mad? At first I pinned it down to feeling like her space had been violated–I was pissed on her behalf.
Then as the week crept on, it felt personal.
I’d taken it to heart, annoyed at myself for allowing whatever the hell that was to go on.
For once I’d felt heat lick up my neck and it hadn't felt uncomfortable, It had felt…intoxicating. I could feel the phantom weight that was obviously male, causing an unfamiliar feeling through me that sweating for two hours in the gym didn't cure. I’d never reacted to a guy like that before, but that thought was quite murky, and the more I thought about it, the more I didn’t think it was entirely true.
I’d only been sexual with women, but that was because my few ex girlfriends had come onto me first. They’d all made the first move, and I wasn’t a dick.
I didn’t want to embarrass a pretty girl by turning them down.
I could attest that I probably hadn't been the best company twitching at her curtains, walking around grumbling when she wanted to go for a walk after breakfast, so I decided to put in some extra effort this week.
The first call to action was getting through practice without freezing my toes off.
The pitch was quickly becoming a mud bath much sooner than we anticipated, so after using the showers at the club's facility, Harris and Emery persuaded me to join them on a slow run through the city, whilst they helped me with gift ideas for Grace. I didn’t tell them about the mask or the creeper, too confused about the entire situation, but I did explain I’d been a moody git and wanted to treat her to something nice to apologise.
Fuck knows what they’d think about my reaction to ghostface, but that was definitely my anxiety talking, because I knew they’d both always support me.
Hell, Emery was gay. In fact, he probably would have been into a masked stranger grinding on him where anyone could see.
The route we found wove through parks, along the river and through some of the quieter parts of the city which were equally as beautiful; with historical architecture, trees, wildlife and then you hit the buzz of the city which populated most of the students.
I loved it and we ran a couple of times a week together to make sure we made time to see one another.
Emery had taken up commission work on top of his course, so we treated him like a busy house gremlin that didn’t leave his room.
He was an aspiring artist, which were his words, but I already thought he was fucking amazing.
He created these insanely detailed pieces in a gothic style, and had even drawn up designs for a graphic novelist last month!
If we didn’t take him out on these runs, the poor guy would never see the light.
“Right boys, after three. Pair up.” Harris says, taking charge and rubbing his hands together before pulling out his phone to select our playlist. New songs get added all the time, but it mainly consists of noughties pop bangers or rock from the nineties.
You would not believe the songs on there by just looking at the three of us.
Emery being by far the lankiest, is fair haired, but his tattoos are so bold and wild.
He’s trim like a swimmer, whilst I have a typical athletic build, with fantastic glutes thanks to rugby.
Harris is pure masculinity. His dark auburn curls trail down into a trimmed thick beard, solid arms from working on his family's farm since being a child and he towers over both of us.
He looks like a force of nature carved from the Scottish forests, which makes it all the more hilarious his favourite song is a Mariah Carey classic.
I'm surprised he didn't start us off with that to be honest, but as You Never Knew by Haim kicks in through our headphones that we sync to his phone, I dip my hips and spread out my fingers as I get us started on the run.
The sun is trying its best to keep the day warm, but over the past couple of weeks everything was drying out to burnt orange.
Leaves crunched under our trainers and the air had a crisp to it.
British weather eighty percent of the time resembles winter until you wake up one morning and it’s shorts weather.
It was a total mind fuck when we moved here.
As the music plays on, we laugh and make small talk, occasionally stopping to break out a dance move or sing out loud as pedestrians gawk.
We’ve reached the park by the university, our breaths heavy after all the start and stop stimulation.
I squat down against a lantern pole but fail to get up gracefully, causing a dog walker to snort and her boyfriend to glower.
Emery attempts to belt out the chorus and I throw my head back, shifting my run into a light jog as I hit the beat with my finger in the air like a symbol.
Harris goes for the low part and claps in time.
This is what I loved about our runs; these moments are what I love about my friends.
I was completely myself with them, no blushing or tripping over words.
They were like family to me. The entire team strived for this brotherhood bond and I was part of the lucky ones to have found my clan at the age of four.
Howling with laughter over the music, Emery hangs onto Harris by his neck and skips beside him as we swing out of the park.
I’ve barely broken a sweat and our leader is now suggesting we go a full five minutes of running before we slow into a jog, which is a good suggestion to actually get us to put in the effort.
My footsteps feel light against the street as we move down the wide path, politely keeping to one side past the library, cafes, bookstores and other student friendly businesses hidden in the narrow buildings.
They look like cute, squished cottages with wooden signs outside or full glass windows dressed with autumn decor.
Utterly quaint. Mum would have a field day shopping.
As the song changed to another Haim favourite of mine, I fling out my arms and belt out the words without a care, hitting my hand straight into someone's chest who is coming out of the coffee house.
“Shit man, I am so sorry.” I worry, flinching as the guy wheezes and slaps at his collarbone.
My cheeks and ears burn as more people approach the cafe, and he is still coughing, but is holding a hand out trying to wave me off to say it’s ok.
Completely flustered and without thinking I roam my hands from his shoulders, down his arms, checking his chest, as he presses his face to cough against his bicep.
“You Eejit, you coulda got him in the fucking throat.” Harris chastises me, taking one earbud out and coming closer to check the guy out.
Despite his grizzly demeanor, he’s a stickler for health and safety, our first aider and probably worries over the people he loves more than I do.
Nodding to let me know the guy is fine, it does put my mind at ease, but only for maybe two seconds, before I hear a feminine gasp behind me.
“Casper! What are you doing to Miles?” Grace hisses, my head whipping so fast in her direction I’m momentarily dizzy and words clog in my throat. I stutter, turn more pink and stare at my girlfriend as she takes tiny strides up to me.
“I–He–Well, erm, he’s fine.” I splutter, turning to look at him again like he’ll be able to explain this situation much better. I really need him to help me out here because mentally combusting is a real thing. I googled it.
“No, no don’t worry I’m fine. We just walked into each other.” The dude says in a deep voice that's almost gravely, which I wasn’t expecting.
Finally lifting his face, he stands to his full height.
My dark curls are at his eyeline and he looks at them before his piercing sea-green eyes move down to look at my face.
He smiles and it’s almost blinding, causing my ears to burn hotter.
I wish whatever force has me unable to look away from him, would put an end to the madness.
This close I notice the light stubble across his jaw and around his lips, ash colour like his long waves that are messy and run through.
He has soft cheeks, with a splatter of light freckles over his nose, some along his cheek bones too.
My gaze returns to his eyes and I can’t comprehend having ever seen that shade of green before–not fully green, but full of blue swirls, like a storm changing with a strong gust. Turquoise.
“I’m Miles.” He introduces himself and dumbly all I can do is just nod.
Grace’s petite frame breaks my trance. She stands beside me, arms crossed over her burgundy knit dress, hair loose today and I see her laptop satchel so I make the educated guess they were on their way to study.
She’s frowning up at me and I don’t miss the apologetic pout she shoots him.
“Can you let go of him?” she asks me and to my horror, I look down at my hands where they’re placed on Miles hips.