Kol: less than five
Make it three
Kol: We’ll make it ten if you keep that up
I roll my eyes and tuck my phone away as I stand up, my stomach in goddamn knots, as if I were a teenage boy about to go on his first date. Shaking my hands, I do my best to calm my racing heart.
If they’re almost here, I need to grab one last thing from my bedroom. Walking on the dark hardwood floor, I admire my dream house, which I moved into about a month ago—one I don’t plan on leaving.
Do I need a five-bedroom, four-bathroom house with a movie theater and ginormous basement, all to myself? No, but I’m hoping that someone else will be moving in with me soon—a certain five-foot-four redhead with these blue eyes that seem to swirl, almost hypnotically, in a way that drives me so goddamn insane that if I don’t get to watch them roll into the back of her head with pleasure soon, I’m going to lose my mind.
Eventually—ideally sooner than later—she’ll be prancing through my front door with that cute little wiener dog, and they’ll make themselves right at home. I already have a dog bed and toys for whenever that day comes, ready to be the best dog dad to Freddie.
Strolling over to my dresser, I swipe my mask from the top—the custom-made burgundy leather mask with mesh red heart eyes that can illuminate with a button. My thumb strokes the upturned black mesh smile that resembles a crescent moon. This mask is my connection to Serena, a bridge between us.
When I first showed the guys, they freaked out, reeled themselves in, became excited, and, within minutes, they each requested one of their own.
I offered to order them a custom one, but they’re still undecided about what they want theirs to look like. It’ll be fun when we all finally have them.
I meander toward my tall bedroom mirror while slipping my mask on, securing the strap over the back of my head. When I lift my gaze, excitement flits through my shoulders in tingling waves as I realize that I’m actually going to talk to Serena tonight.
After nearly half a year of watching her, wearing every fiber of my patience thin, the night is finally here. I could have started this sooner, but I’ve waited for the perfect moment because she deserves nothing less.
Valentine’s Day is her favorite holiday—something I discovered when I scoured every post on her and her family’s social media as far back as her childhood. I know her better than she could imagine, especially after stealing that dating questionnaire she filled out from her work. Which is exactly why I plan on winning her heart before February 14th.
It wasn’t too hard to get into her computer since I have Casper on my team and he’s a tech nerd. It’d been a while since he’d actively used his skills, but when I askedfor his help, it fueled the resurgence of his passion. Once we got his bug on her computer, we had access to everything.
Cas and Kol have made this courtship of mine possible. When I couldn’t deliver the notes, these guys helped me hire or find someone to do it. They are almost as deep into this as I am. I’m not surprised by their eagerness. We’ve always had similarly twisted minds.
My phone dings, and I find a text from Kol, telling me they’re waiting outside. My heart thumps viciously in my chest as I’m pulled from my thoughts.
It’s time.
Is it healthy to have an adrenaline rush for hours on end? Because that’s how I’ve felt since Ker and I started preparing for the doors to open, putting final touches on everything.
An hour into the party, I’m even more on edge because my mystery man is nowhere to be found.
As far as the party goes, it’s better than I could’ve imagined.
Red, pink, and soft white lights dance overhead, casting a romantic ambiance over the room, and every table is decorated with a vase of fresh white flowers, conversation cards, chocolates, and even fake candles. We would’ve used real candles, but apparently, that’s against the convention center’s guidelines unless they’re floating in a water vase.
The tables lining the back wall of the room are full ofgoody bags for every attendee, including date ideas, donations from the sponsoring companies, a discount card for services at Bound-to-Be, and condoms—because safety is always essential, especially if anyone’s taking their connection back home tonight.
The place is packed; over three hundred fifty attendees showed up. I knew people were likely to come since they had to purchase the ticket beforehand, but it’s still an impressive turnout. This gorgeous, massive ballroom is full of smiling faces and happy hearts.
I’ve lost count of the phone numbers I’ve seen being exchanged and couples leaving together, beaming with excitement. With masks on everyone’s faces, people seem to approach each other more easily than usual. Even if the night ended like this, I would be ecstatic about the outcome.
Making my way through the crowded floor toward the entrance, where Kerrigan is, I adjust the gold mask that covers my eyes. Disappointment gnaws at my stomach from the absence of a particular admirer, one who said he’d be here and even gave me this dress to wear. Which, I’ll admit, is absolutely stunning and a flawless fit … eerily so.
The red satin outlines my décolletage with a square neckline, fan-shaped straps, and a boned corset that juts out in a short skirt with a red bow in the back to boot. I feel like a sexy, walking present. One that I was hoping my mysterious man might unwrap.
A couple to my right catches my attention, and I can see the eagerness and lust in their eyes. They’re looking at each other like there’s no one else in the room. My chestswells, and I feel light as a feather as I weave through the sea of people, zigzagging through the gaps in the crowd.
My narrow path ends at a blockage, formed by two giant men with their backs to me. I’m hidden in their shadows as I wait for them to sense my presence and move.
“Excuse me,” I mutter to them politely, my voice sweet.
They don’t budge or move a single muscle at my request. But they probably didn’t hear me. The music and the chatter in here are a bit overwhelming.
