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I hate how sexy he looks in that damn mask.

Not that I’d ever admit it.

I mean, he is a YouTube sensation, with his four thriving channels—paranormal and true crime deep dives, movie commentary, gaming streams, and motorcycle stuff.

He’s been doing this for over a decade, and he was one of the OG’s faceless content creators, which got him a massive following…

then a bunch of horny cult-like fans turned him into a masked thirst trap.

For the record, I’ve never had a thing for masked men. Or bikers, for that matter. Like, ever. And being a TikTok influencer who dances in front of the camera for views means I’ve got MaskTok and BikeTok in my comments all the time.

Okay, I lie. I suppose Mamoru Chiba, aka Tuxedo Mask, counts as a masked man, and he was my first crush. He is also a biker… so yeah, clearly I’m full of it.

Anyway, when Ghost Daddy walked into my life, all six-foot-something of broad-shouldered mystery and that ridiculously deep, gravel-and-honey voice, I began questioning literally everything I thought I knew about myself.

And by “walked into my life,” I mean he DM’d me about a collab almost two years ago, then flirted with me like a menace.

Of course, my dumbass flirted back, despite being in a relationship at the time.

I admit, I thought I could have my cake and eat it, too.

But it just worked, with Aiden being busy doing his own thing and me and Ghost in the same horror niche of content creation…

I got the best out of both of them, though it quickly became clear that Aiden was a jerk that I had nothing in common with.

It took me way too long to dump his ass, but after that things immediately escalated with Ghost…

until I bailed on him like a coward with commitment issues and a self-sabotage kink the second things felt real .

Yeah. Not my finest moment.

Now we’re crammed into this creaky-ass rustic Airbnb somewhere in remote North Carolina, sitting on the very edge of the Appalachian wilderness—me, Ghost, Kendra, Nate, and Devin—plotting fake content for our respective channels like the well-oiled clout-chasing machine that we are.

It’s the kind of place where people disappear in true crime documentaries.

Like that story I did with Nate in the winter about a group of college kids that got ripped to shreds in Alaska while we were there.

Not exactly how I planned to spend my summer. And to add more excitement, it’s the first time Ghost and I are hanging out—or rather working together—after what has transpired on Valentine’s. Mutual friends and shared followers mean you don’t get to ghost your mistakes. Pun intended.

“Bunny?” I feel him nudging my arm lightly, sitting next to me. His voice is unfair. Deep, smooth, with just a hint of teasing arrogance. It makes my stomach flip like it’s auditioning for a gymnastics team. If sex had a sound, it’d be him saying my name.

I glance up to find him already looking at me.

Well, I assume he is. The mask makes it hard to tell, since it’s just a smooth, blank, white surface with two dark, slanted slits where his eyes should be.

No mouth hole, no facial expressions, just eternal unreadability.

Sexy, slightly terrifying unreadability.

It’s not even that I want him to take it off. I don’t. The mystery is part of the allure. The unknown underneath. He could be anyone. He could be hideous. Or heartbreakingly beautiful.

Well, looking at his large, veiny hands with those long fingers, I just know he’s fucking hot. Every guy with attractive hands has a gorgeous face—sorry, but I don’t make the rules.

Either way, I’ve dreamed about that mask more times than I’m willing to say.

Uh, he has this presence that’s impossible to put into words. It’s terrifying how easy it would be to fall for him again.

And it doesn’t help that I can feel the heat of his body next to me.

Usually, he’s wearing a black hoodie, but it’s so humid here that he has only a short-sleeved band t-shirt on, exposing his muscular, tattooed arms. His head and neck are still hidden beneath a balaclava, but I can make out the sharp contour of his jawline under the black fabric.

He wears a silver chain necklace with a matching bracelet, as well as a few beaded and leather ones on his other wrist. I also notice the friendship bracelet I made for him with DADDY spelled out.

It’s so cheap and childish, but he never took it off since the day he got it in the mail…

“What?” I ask, trying not to sound flustered. Totally failing.

He leans back on the couch, long legs stretched out, arms draped over the backrest like he owns the place and everyone in it. Like he owns me . “You were staring.”

“I was zoning out.” I look at my phone, lifting my can of energy drink like a shield. “Calm down, Casper.”

“Right.”

“Daddy?” Kendra asks from across the coffee table, cutting in, and I recognize that flirty tone in her voice.

“Eww, don’t call him that,” I slip.

“Why? I like Daddy .” Ghost cocks his head at me. He probably has the stupidest smirk on his stupid face under that stupid mask.

Yes, I realize people call him that, maybe less often than Ghost , and more as a form of a joke, but still. I’m also fully aware he likes it. I used to call him that, after all…

I get turned on just at the memory of our late-night chats. It feels like something that was reserved just for me .

“So, I always wondered…” she continues, “do you add some special effects to sound like that?”

I roll my eyes so hard it’s a miracle my skull doesn’t crack. “Oh, really? You think he has a Darth Vader voice changer under there?” I snort.

They both ignore me. How nice of them.

“No, that’s just my voice,” he responds, flirting back.

“Oh my God, it’s so deep!” She giggles .

“Can you stop fangirling?” I whisper conspiratorially to my supposed best friend, hissing through my teeth, like he wouldn’t be able to hear.

But why is she acting this way? Just to mess with me? All it does is light the fire that I thought was already extinguished.

“You don’t need to be so possessive of me, Bun-bun.”

My mouth opens, then closes. God, I hate him. I hate that he can make me forget how to use words. Or breathe.

“Can we please focus?” Devin whines. “We are literally sitting in the perfect Appalachian horror movie setup and you two are already being horny and weird.”

“Weird?” Ghost echoes. “I haven’t even started being weird yet.”

“Don’t encourage him, Dev,” I quickly say before any more words are spoken.

Nate, bless his nerdy little heart, is already unrolling maps on the coffee table, glasses sliding down his nose. “I marked a couple of old trails that are supposedly tied to some missing persons reports from the 70s. Super sketchy stuff, lots of rumors about hauntings and weird lights—”

“And conveniently remote enough to stage some good ol’ paranormal shit,” Kendra adds.

Dev raises a brow. “Oh, we’re admitting that now?”

Kendra shrugs. “It’s 2025. Everyone fakes half of their content. As long as it’s scary, sexy, and slightly believable, it’s monetizable.”

“Three words that also describe Bunny,” Ghost murmurs, not even bothering to look away from me.

Damn it, he’s still hurt.

“That was rude and uncalled for.” I give him the look—half glare, half blushing mess. But I guess I kinda deserve this colder, crueler, smug bastard version of him.

“First off, we need to research all the local lore,” Kendra announces like she just did something.

“Oh, okay, Sam Winchester,” I bite out, my voice sharper than I planned.

Why am I mad at her?

Dev gives Ghost a look, then turns his stare back to me, his eyes full of concern. “You good, Bunny?”

I normally don’t act like this—cute and bubbly are my branding.

But everything is awkward now. The truth is, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing around Ghost anymore.

I want to be cool, casual, unaffected. I want to pretend like our messy history didn’t happen.

Yet, he keeps poking at the past, reminding me that he put himself out there, and I crushed him without any excuse after leading him on for weeks.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m just tired after the flight.”

“So, interviews with the locals first,” Nate says, once again diverting attention from the ‘ Bunny and Ghost’ telenovela. “We should start right away. That way, tomorrow we can have all day just in the woods.”

“We aren’t actually gonna camp in the woods overnight, though?” I ask, shivering at the very thought.

Ghost laughs darkly. “Of course we will.”

“Man, don’t scare her,” Dev interjects with a chuckle.

But Ghost scoots closer—so close his knee in his ripped black jeans brushes against mine—and murmurs, “I sign up to chase my little bunny through the woods.”

“Not gonna happen, buddy,” I retort.

He freezes for a second. “Buddy, huh? Ouch.”

Dev claps his hands from excitement just in time to stop me from apologizing—for what? “Okay, so tomorrow we hike up, set up a campsite, and make some movie magic—scared faces, shaky cam, the whole found footage deal.”

I sip my drink. “Just so we’re clear, if any actual supernatural crap starts happening, I’m out of there. Y’all can die for content.”

Ghost taps his fingers against his thigh, his rings making the clicking metal sound, his leg bouncing slightly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re safe with me.”

I scoff, but my face is growing warmer again. “Oh, please. You just wanted to chase me.”

“I’ll protect you from everything and everyone except myself.”

I look for a comeback, but I’ve got nothing, and I know somewhere under that mask, he is smiling.

It’s like he wants me to regret… or does he want me back?

Maybe—just maybe—he’s still into me.

Which would be a recipe for disaster since I never stopped being into him either.