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W e meet the others in the parking lot by the only supermarket in town and squeeze our asses into the rental car.

Dev’s behind the wheel with Kendra, Ghost, and me crammed in the backseat. His legs take up all the space—of course, the giant had to sit next to me and let Nate ride shotgun.

“So, what do you guys have?” I ask, mostly to distract myself from the fact that I’m pressed up against him. His cologne wraps around me in the tight space, warm and sharp, making my skin tingle. I can still feel the ghost of his fingers teasing me just minutes ago.

Nate perks up immediately, geeking out. “Moon-eyed people, Devil’s Tramping Ground, Ancient Aliens, the Wampus Cat—”

“All the classics,” Dev mutters with a grin, glancing at me over his shoulder. “Even your favorite Bigfoot!”

I flip him the finger. “Eyes on the road.” There’s nothing funny about what happened in Alaska. Sasquatch may be a stretch, but it was something supernatural—no doubt about it.

“And you two?” Kendra turns her head toward us.

I peer up at Ghost before answering in a lowered voice, “Wendigo and Skinwalkers.”

Dev nearly swerves. “What? No way!” He checks the rearview like we’ve lost our minds, his smile completely erased now.

“That creep isn’t a reliable source. We’re not using that,” Ghost snaps, ignoring everyone else’s confusion. He doesn’t even look at me when he says it, which somehow makes it worse. “End of discussion,” he finishes flat.

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from talking back. Mark seemed pretty normal to me. I don’t get what his issue is. But I have to agree—we’re not touching any of that.

“Well, fyi, we grabbed some frozen pizzas for dinner since, apparently, they don’t deliver where we’re staying,” Kendra jumps in, trying to lighten the mood. “And also, a couple of bottles of vodka.”

“Perfect! Just what I need.” Honestly? Alcohol sounds incredible right now.

“You can’t handle your liquor,” Ghost comments, skeptical.

I arch a brow at him. “Excuse me, Dad. I don’t remember asking for your permission,” I shoot back, because one thing I can’t handle is his brooding.

Dev cracks up from the front seat. “Damn, Bun! That was cold.”

I flash him a mock salute. Ghost says nothing. Typical.

But the rest of the drive falls into awkward silence.

When we finally pull up to the Airbnb, I step out a little too fast and stretch like I’ve just escaped a coffin. Kendra sidles up to me the second we’re inside.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” she hisses, dragging me toward the hallway like it’s an emergency.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I act oblivious.

“You and Ghost. You could cut the tension in that car.”

I shrug, then remind myself she’s been flirting with him the entire time we’re here. “Why have you been acting weird around him?” I give her a death stare.

She snorts. “Seriously? So you’d get pissy and jealous and finally realize you still have feelings for him. Duh.”

I blink. “Huh?”

“You two are perfect for each other,” she says with a smirk. “Go for it.”

“But it didn’t work then.”

Kendra crosses her arms. “Right. That’s why you cried for two whole months after you two stopped talking?”

I open my mouth. Close it again.

She just raises her brows in victory.

Thankfully, Nate’s voice echoes down the hall, calling us into the living room so I can dance away from this conversation.

We follow the sound, and soon everyone’s sprawled across mismatched couches and floor cushions, half a bottle of vodka already cracked open.

Kendra puts on music—some indie playlist she insists is perfect for “paranormal vibes”—and Dev starts charging the cameras for tonight.

Whether we catch anything real or fake some activity for views, the plan’s the same: stir shit up, and hope for a flicker of something creepy.

I settle into the corner of my seat, drink in hand, trying not to feel Ghost’s eyes on me.

But he watches. He always watches. Especially as I down my drink faster than I should.

The burn goes down smooth now that the buzz is settling in.

He doesn’t say anything—just gives a single nod and stands, disappearing out onto the wide, open-air porch that wraps halfway around the house.

Kendra clinks her glass against mine. “Cheers, bitch,” she grins, and I knock the rest of my drink back like a dare. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!”

I roll my eyes, then follow him outside, the old wooden planks creaking beneath my feet.

The porch is quiet, steeped in the golden light, like the calm before something breaks.

Only the cicadas are singing in the distance.

The air clings, humid and thick, and the sun is just starting to dip low.

We’re right on the edge of the woods, no neighbors in sight, nothing but dense trees and the fading heat of early summer. It’s actually kinda gorgeous out here.

Ghost leans against the railing, his back toward me, hands gripping the wood like he’s trying to ground himself—the white paint flaking off in brittle chips beneath his fingers.

For a moment, I just watch him. My skin prickles. There’s something eerie about the quiet… about him . I don’t know whether I want to step closer or bolt.

He turns around, broad shoulders tense, arms crossed over his chest. I can’t see his face through the mask, but I don’t have to.

He’s fucking livid.

“So,” he starts, deceptively calm. But his voice is rough, raw, already on the edge of something violent. “What happened on Valentine’s?”

I bite my lip, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I don’t want to look at him. His presence presses against me like a storm about to break.

“I—” I choke up. “It got so serious so fast and I just… I wasn’t ready.”

Silence.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” His words are sharp enough to cut. “We’d been talking for over a year, Bunny. Don’t act dumb with me. You knew damn well we were never just friends.”

“I was in a relationship, Ghost. It’s not my fault you made it out to be more than it was in your head.”

“Be fucking for real.” His voice turns to ice.

I sigh. “Do we have to do this now? We’re out here with our friends. For work.”

“Yes, right now is the time.”

I swallow hard. “I thought we were just… you know… fooling around.”

Something snaps.

Ghost moves so fast I don’t register it until I’m pinned—his hands braced on either side of me, caging me against the porch railing. The wood digs into my back, but it’s nothing compared to the heat coming off him.

“Fooling around?” he echoes, voice low and dangerous.

I force myself to meet his gaze, but all I see is the reflection of the setting sun in his mask.

“Do I look like I’ve got time for that shit?” he growls. “For fuck’s sake, I’ll be thirty-one this fall. I wouldn’t waste a second on some chick across the country if I wanted to fool around .”

Guilt twists in my stomach. My breath catches. “But you knew I just got out of something serious,” I say quickly, trying to stop the spiral. “ And toxic. I was in a vulnerable mind space, and seeing you at the New Year’s party was—”

“A great distraction,” he finishes with no emotion.

My heart drops. “Ghost, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Didn’t you?” His head tilts, like he’s weighing whether I’m even worth forgiving.

“I enjoyed talking to you. Very much. It was all real to me. But it was too much, too soon. When you asked me to come for the weekend, I said yes, but the more I thought about it… the less sure I was. I mean, we’re just wired differently.

Look at you and look at me. It’s pretty comical.

” I point between us. “And the whole distance thing… how would that even work long-term?”

I expect him to back off. To understand.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he lets out a slow, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, so that’s the problem?” His voice is more casual, but the venom is still there. “Well, I never fucking asked you to give up your super fancy influencer lifestyle to come live with me in the goddamn desert, did I?”

I flinch. “No, I know. But the long distance is a real issue.”

Silence stretches between us—thick, suffocating.

“Have you considered,” he says slowly, “that I’d be willing to move for you?”

I blink. That… that I hadn’t. He loves Arizona.

“Don’t you hate being around people, though?” I murmur. “And where would you even ride your bike in New York?”

Ghost exhales sharply, his patience wearing thin. “Now you’re just looking for excuses, baby.”

Before I can argue, he grabs me by the waist and pulls me into his lap as he drops into a wicker chair. I gasp, my hands flying to his chest, but he doesn’t let go. His arms lock tight around me, trapping me sideways.

“What was the real reason?” he murmurs, fingers trailing up my spine, slow and deliberate.

I swallow, avoiding his gaze as I nervously twirl my hair around my finger. “I already told you.”

“I want the truth.” His voice drops lower, rougher.

“You’re very intense and intimidating. And you’re kinda mean, too.”

“Mean?” Ghost sounds surprised, like he genuinely doesn’t realize he can be a total dick sometimes. Or most of the time.

“Well, not to me,” I add quickly. “But yeah, the way you treated Mark? Way out of line.”

“Oh fuck, you’re still not over that dude?” he scoffs, throwing his hands up.

“Ugh, see what I mean?” I huff. “We don’t even like each other. I annoy you. You aggravate me.”

“But imagine the sex, though.”

I glare. “Ghost, too many red flags came up. What you did to Aiden on Halloween—”

“Your ex? Really?” he cuts in, voice rising.

“It was terrifying! You could’ve dropped him by accident. You do realize that, right?”

He shrugs. “Funny, because we started talking after that.” He leans in before adding, “Maybe I should’ve… would that turn you on?”

Whoa, crazy alert.

“And you’ve become so controlling,” I push on, not letting him derail it. “About where I go, who I’m with, what I wear, what I post.”