4. Chapter 4 #4
It barely takes me ten minutes until I'm crouched behind his neighbour's bush, his car parked in the drive and I can see some movement through the front window.
They don't have blinds, just curtains, so I stay where I am.
I highly doubt I'd survive three rugby players if they found me lurking in their garden.
My charm definitely would not save me. Here is a safer option because with an empty driveway, I can hope his neighbour is out.
Either way, this needs to be quick and I just want confirmation he definitely lives here.
A light touch of chill is nipping under my collar, but god must be a horny devil too, because he blesses me with the man I’m desperate to see.
Their front door opens and Cass steps out, as well as one of his housemates.
He's tall, built like a viking actually and covered just as much in dark ink.
His could be easily covered with a long sleeve though, whilst Cass has ink on his neck and tickling the skin on his hands.
“Em, if you leave, don't forget to lock the back door! I swear if we get home and it's open, I'm not giving you a lift to uni for a week.” Harris–I assume the tall guy is Harris because I stalked their social media after the cafe–shouts and Cass pushes him.
“Don't announce it to the street!”
The guys play push for a few seconds, before laughing and close the door, locking it with a set of keys.
“You know he's gonna leave it open.” Harris mumbles as they stretch outside their front gate. They then set off walking together, back towards the city. They're wearing work out gear, so I can only assume they're hitting the gym or will be on another run.
Pocketing the knowledge that their backdoor may-be my ticket inside, I follow them at a slower pace, but my long legs eat up the space easily.
Neither notice me as we hit the neighborhood crawling with students and thank my lucky stars the cardio I do at the gym means I don’t lose them.
Yeah my chest is heaving, but as we get closer to campus, they both head into the gym, which I’ll soon be signing up to.
Mine may have a stupidly high leavers fee, but what's living off packets of chicken noodles for the rest of the month, if it means I can see him more. Cass laughs at something Harris says before they head inside and I can’t help the pang of jealousy that hits me square in the chest. I barely know this guy, but I know I could make him laugh like that.
I want to. Hearing that sound knowing it was over something I provided him with…
yeah I definitely want that. It justifies what I’m doing, because as I lean against the point of the alleyway wall across the street, adjusting my jumper as I watch them both start on the treadmills by the front windows, I realise everything I do from now on will all be in the best interest of catching this man.
He might be the size of a wolf, but he’s going to be my little mouse in what I have planned for him.
Night flips Cass’s house into darkness and the low, warm glow from his living room window is the only light to fight off twilight.
His housemates aren’t in and after I quietly tested out the back door, I can confirm it was unlocked.
Oh you sweet, sweet, hot, husky fools. I have no idea what they’re putting in the water in that household, but all three men are very nice to look at.
Admittedly though, it’s become very apparent that there's only one Scottish man for me. It’s Cass or no one; I’ve not even noticed other men since seeing him with Grace in the dive bar, when I leant her my book.
Kind of feels like I’m chewing on grit thinking of her wanting to try out things in that particular book with him, but that’s not going to happen.
I can see the cracks and hopefully he dumps her ass and realises she’s taking advantage of how fucking nice he is.
I don't go into his house, not whilst he’s downstairs, but I do return to the front of the house and linger in the bushes outside the living room window.
Even without blinds they never close their curtains, so despite a rose bush thorn sticking right into my left butt cheek, I settle in to watch him.
It sends a thrilling zap right down to my toes and I don’t even try to cover up how being this close to him, gets me fucking going.
When I walked home earlier, leaving Cass at the gym, I signed up to the free thirty day trial and formed a plan for my evening.
Our first night really, because when we look back hopefully together, this will be the start of it all.
I changed into warmer layers knowing I may be out here for a while and I even packed a flask of tea, with a few chocolate hobnobs.
Yeah I might be exploring this new kink of mine–abort calling it stalking–but I want to at least be comfortable if I'm freezing my balls off.
I can't see from here what Cass is watching on television, but his entire focus is on the box.
He's stretched out on their sofa with a thin blanket haphazardly laid over him, showing mouth watering thick thighs in just the tiniest pair of shorts.
His t-shirt has ridden up to show a toned, tattooed stomach, but I can't stop looking at each expression that flickers across his face.
He reacts to everything in the show he's watching or film, making me wish I could be inside to ask him all the questions eating away at my brain.
He shifts his position and places a palm against the pillow he’s resting on, his eyelids slow down their blinking. Once, twice, his mouth opens in the cutest ‘o’ and his eyes don't open again.
He's fallen asleep.
Slowly twisting the cap back onto my flask, I lower it down into my backpack that's by my feet, never taking my eyes off his sleeping form.
Not wanting to waste any time if this is my only opportunity, I quietly shift my bag onto my back, creep out from the bushes and head around back.
The double doors were silent when I tested them earlier, so I know they won't make a sound if I open them.
I don't even hesitate, which maybe is something I should see a therapist about, if I cared enough about my actions.
This is all for the greater good. I hold back a snort, trying to stop myself from word vomiting quotes from Hot Fuzz. Banging film.
Pushing down the handle, I slowly ease the door open and place one foot inside. A blast of heat tickles my skin and I'm thankful, because what I plan to do next will not look good with ghastly white, pebbled cold goosebumps.
Closing the door behind me, I ease my way into the house, not wanting to risk any noise so I slip off my vans to minimise any shoe scuffing against vinyl. The television is turned low, but the hum of chatter from what I see is a new detective show, is loud enough that I won't wake him.
God, Cass is right there. Sprawled out just for me. I breathe, hoping for a hit of that woodsy smell that was all over me in the coffee shop, but he's too far away and I daren't creep closer. He cannot know I'm here, especially not before I start our game.
Taking note of the show he's watching, I retreat from the living room and wait for an especially loud scene on the television to head up the staircase. Who knew the key to stalking around unfound is perfectly silent floorboards? I don't make one sound. Taking my phone out of my jeans pocket, I use the torch to get around the landing. There’s one door at the top of the stairs I assume is the bathroom because it is separate from the other three. What is even more perfect is that two doors next to one another are locked, the last one opens just a slither. If Cass’s aftershave doesn’t give away this as his room, then my hoody he still hasn't returned, thrown across his desk chair does.
The urge to take something as a souvenir is overwhelming, sending tingles over my skin. I'm getting away with breaking into his room. This is like every dark romance act one, I've ever read. I should take notes, remember my steps in case I need to write this down one day.
Closing the door behind me, I let my phone torch guide me to beside his bed, where I turn on his bedside lamp.
He's very neat for a guy, so it'll be easy not to move anything out of place.
Dumping my backpack onto his desk chair, I run my finger over my hoodie and decide he can officially keep it.
The idea of him wearing it whilst sitting in this bed makes my dick start to thicken, which can't hurt for what I plan to do next.
Unzipping my coat, I lay it over the desk and grab my t-shirt by the neck to peel it over my head.
It lands on top of the desk too and next comes my jeans, leaving me in tight black boxers.
Digging into my bag, I pull out the ghostface mask and waste no time.
I already have the perfect song in mind for the video, so hoping the television downstairs drowns out any noise I make, I find Bed Chem on Spotify and let it play.