Page 95 of Pleasure & Prey: Vol. 2

“I’ll let you get back to your movie, Winnie.” He doesn’t seem to mind that I haven’t been able to say a damn thing in the past thirty seconds. “And maybe get better candy. Chocolate covered raisins? By choice?”

“Wait—” I look down at the box in my hand. “How do you know⁠—”

“Good night, Winnie. Like I said…I just wanted to hear your voice tonight.” He doesn’t let me ask a question, or at least stumble to try to find the one I want an answer for. Instead he hangs up, leaving me with my phone to my ear and the cat glaring at me in judgment.

“Oh, yeah?” I set my phone on the end table and settle back against the armrest. “You try talking to him or telling him to leave or…literally anything. He’s difficult, okay?” And a murderer. But I don’t need to say that part out loud. Minxy resettles on my lap, stretching out over my stomach when I lay down on the couch, and it’s not long before the combination of an eighties slasher and her purrs put me to sleep.

15

“Ever heard of Dayquil? Mucinex? Literally any decongestant on the market?” Reagan’s voice is dry as I sniffle, nose running and a little raw.

“Ever heard of empathy?” I mutter in reply, my voice sounding a little off because of my allergies. “And I took some shit before we left. It just takes a bit to kick in.”

“Maybe you should take more.” Reagan watches me, silently judging when I scrub my itchy nose on the sleeve of my hoodie.

I roll my eyes at her, feet crunching on the gravel as we head toward the trio of buildings in the dark. Manic Manor has been around as long as I can remember, though it’s grown from one haunt to four in the past ten years or so. “Warehouse and manor first?” I ask, guessing from our normal routine that we’re going to do the same thing as usual. "Then the forest?” We tend to skip the smaller house, which is more for kids than adults.

Reagan looks contemplative, tilting her head from one side to the other. She bites her lip, as if this really is some big decision she’s having to make, then says, “Why don’t we mix it up this year? Forest first. Then manor. Then slaughterhouse?” She raises her eyebrows at me in question.

“Sure.” It’s not like I have much of an opinion. We’re here to do all three, so as long as that happens, I’m just along for the ride. “Why the change this year? Normally you like your routine even more than me.”

“I’m feeling frisky.” She puts a dramatic bounce in her step and I sniffle as I watch her, wishing I could breathe normally.

My eyes flick around the open courtyard, first toward the line to the ticket booth and then toward the hot chocolate stand. It’s cold tonight, colder than it has been lately, and I blame the weather for my snotty nose and congested sinuses. “Okay, frisky. Could you grab our tickets? I’m going to go blow my nose.”

If I don’t, I worry it’ll start dripping mid haunted forest, and I can’t think of anything more embarrassing than getting startled by a man in a mask with snot running down my face. Reagan agrees with a salute and I quickly walk toward the other side of the open yard to the hot chocolate stand. One of the girls looks up at me, and I hesitate, feeling suddenly guilty for just coming over here to swipe napkins.

“Just one, please?” I request, fishing around in my pockets for my wallet. “Extra marshmallows?”

“Two, actually.” The smooth, amused voice startles me just as a hand appears at my side, handing the girl a twenty. “And you can keep the change.”

I don’t need to turn to know who’s here. The girl stares up at Cassian, a small, nervous red tint in her cheeks as she meets his eyes. “Yeah. Umm. Absolutely. Did you want extra marshmallows too?”

“Sure.” I can feel Cassian’s body heat against me even as I grab a stack of napkins and stuff them into the pocket of my hoodie. I busy myself with being as unattractive as possible, my nose sounding like a goose’s call as I blow it into one of the napkins.

“Cute.” Cass gently pushes my hair behind my ear, his hand resting at the back of my neck. “Is that your mating call?”

“Yeah. The boys are going to start flocking around me any moment now.” I look up at him so he can see the dramatic roll of my eyes. “Thank you.” Mama raised me to be polite, after all. And he did just buy me hot chocolate.

“Anytime.” His warm hand stays on my neck and I can’t find it in me to shove him away. How can I, when the warmth is welcome and he’s…

Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? I struggle to make the right decisions when it comes to Cass.

“You’re nicer than you were when we were kids.” I don't know where the words come from, but they prompt the blue-eyed man to look down at me, surprise evident on his face.

“Am I?” He blinks, like I’ve surprised him. “Are you sure?”

“Well, you haven’t, ya know.” I make a ridiculous stabbing motion with my hand that has Cass raising his brows and tilting his head to the side in disbelief. “Sorry, did you want the sound effect, too?” I make the back-and-forth knife motion again, this time adding a few creaky, congested squeaks along with it.

He snorts, shaking his head. I see him roll his eyes just as he murmurs, “You’re ridiculous, princess. And I’m not that nice.”

“You haven’t given me the look this year, either.” I can't help but keep going, even when he throws a sidelong glance my way that looks a little less amused and a little more exasperated. “You know. It’s—” My grin widens when he turns to look at me fully. “Oh yes, there it is. That one, where you do that thing with your mouth.”

“Winnie.” Cass steps closer, my name a warning on his lips. I fight not to shiver even as I sniffle, my eyes on his. “I’m going to need you to knock it off. This place is a bit too crowded for me to give you the attention you’re asking for. And you look a little too pathetic for me to feel good about it.”

“What attention am I asking for, exactly?” God, I really just can’t help myself.

Cass’s eyes narrow and my breath catches in my throat when his lips part around the words I’m so excited and nervous to hear.