13. Chapter 13
The moment Cass leaves the table, I knew Grace would unleash all her questions.
I don't think she has any right to ask any of them, but the girl clearly can’t read the room, even with two of his friends still at the table.
She’s been watching us the entire meal, but what really pisses me off is the look of disbelief on her face.
Like she can't comprehend not only is Cass with a man, but with me. She can’t believe he's with me and the inner child in me that felt unsupported at times, wants to lunge over the table.
“Care to explain what's going on between you two?” She wags her finger towards the toilets and I sigh, putting my drink down.
“Not really.”
She huffs, sitting back with her arms crossed.
Teddy jumps in, “Honey, it's not really any of your business.”
“It kind of is, we've barely been separated and this is happening.” She waves her hand at me now and I'm actually stunned at how disturbed she is.
“Girl please, you were only together for like two months. You can't use the word separated like you're getting divorced with two kids.” I scrunch my lips, deciding to stop myself from saying more by drinking a huge gulp of my beer.
“Miles, you met at a cafe where he came to see me.”
I am so ready to argue, but Emery steps in, to my surprise fully in my corner. “Grace, it's not any of your business who Cass dates or how they got together. You broke it off with him.”
“I'm pretty sure they accidentally bumped into each other at the cafe and you ignored him the entire time.” Teddy mumbles over his wine glass, not being subtle and Grace puts down her fork in frustration.
“Casper isn't gay, Miles!” She hisses and thank god Harris–the man of reason–steps in, because her tone has the three queer men at the table ready to start a heated argument. Teddy has placed his wine down and Emery is glaring at her like she's just stood on the table and took a shite.
Holding his hands out, Harris firmly shuts her down.
“His sexual orientation has absolutely nothing to do with anyone else.
Grace, this has clearly…confused you, but you can't just assume someone is straight because they date women.
If he didn't tell you his label–which he doesn't need to, you can't assume someone is straight.
It isn't your business anymore and if Cass wants to date a man, there isn't a problem with that.”
She rolls her eyes, “I don't care if he wants to date a man.”
I scoff, “You just care that he's dating me?”
She eyes me up and down. “The timing is very…concerning to me.” This fucking girl.
I'm about to fully let her have it, thinking she can be this possessive, but the table hushes. Cassie returns to the table and swings down into his seat, rubbing my shoulder, unaware of the tension. I think Grace has had enough though, because she almost growls and grabs her bag.
“I'm heading out. See you guys in class.” No one says anything as she storms out and Cassie's shoulders sag. He's not stupid, he knows a choice conversation happened whilst he was away from the table.
Knocking back the rest of his wine, Teddy shakes out his toned hair and turns his body to us both.
“Trip organiser ruling, Grace is out of the Whitby trip. Officially. Cass, would you like to come to Whitby over half term break? Oh!” He turns to Harris and Emery, “you guys too! There is plenty of room. I booked a big cabin.”
“Oh my god yes! Hell yes.” Em punches the air and Harris hums, softly nodding.
“That ok if we crash?” He whispers to me softly and in an attempt to make that spark come back in his eyes, I lean down and place a soft kiss to his lips.
Resting my forehead against his, I look into his deep whisky brown eyes.
“I'd love that. There’s a scare-festival and we've planned a bunch of Halloween related activities.”
He takes my hand and squeezes it. “We're in then. Thank you.”
“Drive me home?”
He nods, and I'm thankful to spend a little more time with him today.
He'd gone completely quiet on me after I posted the video of his unknown collab, and after the angry messages he sent the account, I can't tell how royally I fucked up.
Our followers loved it, so hopefully he can see the cheeky intentions soon.
Cassie's juicy ass grinds down into my lap and I moan into his mouth, both our bodies withering on my sofa in the living room.
Thank god the guys decided to stay out in town because the moment he stopped the car outside my house, I dived on his mouth like he was an oxygen mask and I was in a spiralling plane.
He kissed back with so much fever we were nearly falling apart right there, so we fumbled our way into my living room and collapsed with him straddling me on the sofa.
His thick thighs bracket my body and god, I can't stop squeezing the firm but squishy globes of his ass. It's perfect–hes so perfect.
Kissing like this, being present as myself with him, solidifies my decision not to take his mouth when I'm donning the mask.
A little feeling of guilt tries to wiggle in and I swat at it, using my tongue to deepen the kiss and drag him further down on me.
Cass is fully in control and hey, if all he wants is a heated make out session I am fully in.
After what feels like endless time of swollen lips, beard burn from rubbing our cheeks together and my dick is about to explode in my jeans, we break apart gasping.
“Fuck, I love your mouth.” I breathe, rubbing my thumb along his bottom lip. His hands curl into my t-shirt and he drags me up to him for a drugging kiss, which has my head spinning. “So, is kissing a man everything you dreamed of?” I joke and we both laugh.
“It’s pretty epic. Five stars, would kiss here again.”
“I’m happy to be of service.”
To prove his point he kisses me, nipping at my bottom lip before sliding off my lap.
I feel cold from the loss of his body, but he’s pressing up next to me in seconds, throwing a strong leg over me.
I grab his leg that's sort of bent under him and position both over my lap, getting comfy into the sofa cushions, digging around for the remote.
“Want to watch a movie or do you have to get back for anything?” I ask, turning on the tv in the lounge.
We all chipped in for it and subscriptions, but the gaming console underneath is our housemates Micah’s.
It’s occasionally used late at night when he’s high and wants to play a game with dream-like landscapes and no real purpose but to frolic around.
Mainly he uses a DS, always showing us his little cartoons with houses and farmlands he’s made. It’s cute, but not my thing.
Cass mumbles something, but I can’t make it out because his accent becomes thick and muffled. I raise my eyebrow and mid stretch he starts to laugh. Apologising, he repeats himself. I am not complaining, a Scottish accent is fucking hot.
“No, I’m good. My first class isn’t too early, we could meet at the gym again in the morning if you like?”
I nod, eager for any time I can spend with him.
It’s hard to keep the satisfied dopey smile off my face as we snuggle together, flicking through streaming services for something we might both like.
In the past few weeks we’ve spoken about so much, meaningful and nonsense, all important because it gives me more insight into the man that is Casper.
He’s so intriguing and honestly I could hear him speak about anything, even the shit jobs on the farm he hates doing.
“We should watch Bullet Train! I’ve seen it, but if you haven’t, it’s so good. The cast is amazing.”
He shakes his head smiling, like an adorable happy puppy. “I haven’t! Stick it on.”
Clicking through to the film, I absentmindedly press play and throw the remote on the cushion beside him.
“Don’t worry, there’s gore but it’s in a humorous kinda-way.
You’ll be fine, it’s not scary or anything.
” I realise what I’ve said before I even finish speaking.
My body tenses and I hope he doesn’t notice the moment I stop breathing, waiting for the dots to click in his head.
Me; the real life Miles doesn’t know that Cass hates horror movies, especially gore. That knowledge belongs to masked Miles.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
The silence between us becomes so taut I can't even hear the beginning of the film start to play, over the thumping of my pulse. It’s throbbing in my ears and the fear I feel isn’t fun at all.
Cassie had said no when I asked if he wanted me to take off the mask, but that was before I posted the video which he was clearly very pissed off about.
Maybe because of his lack of wanting to unmask me, I really hadn’t thought about who he thought his masked ghost was.
Did he think it was me? Would he want it to be me?
I don’t dare look to my side to gauge if I’m in trouble, but the breath I’m holding stutters out of me when he sighs.
“Miles…Can I tell you something?”
I nearly squeak, coughing to clear my throat before I finally turn to look at him. He’s gone from happy puppy to lost lamb, the guilt on his face twisting something in my stomach and I sit up right.
“What’s wrong?”
He rubs at the back of his neck, “Nothing’s wrong, but I just want to be as transparent as possible with you, and if this is something you’re not ok with, I can shut it down. Well, I’m thinking of shutting it down anyway, but I just want to be honest with you because it’s hurting my brain.”
“Ok…”
“So when we were at the cafe and I said I’d explored some aspects of my sexuality, recently…” He swallows and I see him start to tug at the back of his hair.
Moving on instinct, I reach out and untangle his fingers from his curls, rubbing at the spot he was assaulting.
His stress is palpable, but I’m so confused where this conversation is heading.
I’m not clueless; I think he’s going to tell me about our recent fooling around, maybe leaving out the masked part. Yeah, it’s not everyone’s kink.