Page 2 of Paranormal Love From an Immortal Thug

I w o k e u p from my nap to my phone vibrating on the nightstand and the wind outside acting disrespectful. Halloween was tomorrow, my favorite time of the year, but this evening, I wasn’t feeling none of that spooky spirit shit. I felt... drained.

My apartment was quiet, still holding onto the smell of that eucalyptus candle I'd burned earlier. I stretched and grabbed my phone, half-expecting a miracle email from my agency. Instead, I had a text from my coworker, Shawnee.

Dating in Grimwood was trash. The apps were tragic, DM dudes were worse, and the men I met in person?

Inconsistent or weird as hell. Either they didn’t believe in commitment, didn’t believe in foreplay, or didn’t believe in soap.

And every time I waxed, lotioned, and gave a damn, I ended up in my bathroom mirror, mad at myself for even trying. I was over it.

Truth be told, I wasn’t in the mood for much of anything. My modeling agency sent a mass “Happy Halloween” email earlier, but no new gigs. Just another reminder that I was grinding for a career that gave crumbs in return.

I’d done some catalog shoots, a small boutique runway, and one campaign that paid in “exposure” and maybe one usable photo. They kept saying I had potential, but some days that potential felt like a scam. Like I was walking uphill in six-inch heels with no end in sight.

I let out a long breath, rolled out of bed, and padded to the kitchen to pour a glass of cranberry juice. Leaning on the counter, I stared at nothing for a minute, letting the quiet settle.

This year had been heavy. Losing my mom, trying to build a name in an industry that didn’t give a fuck if you were tired, broke, or grieving, and clocking in part-time at an admin job just to stay afloat was all catching up to me. I wasn’t just tired. My soul was tired.

I texted Shawnee back with a smirk.

Then I hit the shower, debating if I should bother with the date. Still, might as well look good for whatever disappointment was waiting at The Mugg.

???

B y t h e t i m e I stepped out of the brownstone, it was a little after eight-thirty.

My third-floor apartment had the whole "restored" vibe, meaning gentrified as hell.

Exposed brick, matte black fixtures, rent just high enough to make you question your life.

Still, it was quiet and safe. Keys in hand, I headed down the hall, ready for the night.

Halloween decorations hung off every balcony on the block. It was all orange lights, fake spider webs, and motion-sensor skeletons that cackled when you walked by. Leaves were tumbling down the sidewalk like they were late to something.

The nighttime air had that eerie, charged energy…

the kind you could almost feel in your bones.

Like something was shifting beneath the surface.

Grimwood was always like that around this time of year.

People walking around in costumes like it was normal to hit the corner store dressed like slutty pumpkins and blood-covered cowboys.

I made my way toward the garage around the corner where I parked, trying to hype myself up.

Blind date or not, I was already dressed and too fine to go back in the house now.

I had on a cinnamon-colored knit two-piece that hugged in all the right places, paired with a caramel trench coat and thigh-high suede boots that made my thick legs look like a whole problem.

My hair was curled into soft, layered waves, edges laid, and my gold hoops peeked out just enough to say don’t play with her.

I unlocked my car and slid into the driver’s seat with a sigh. Alright mystery man... don’t be lame.

Twenty minutes later, I was pulling up to The Mugg, a trendy, fake-upscale spot downtown. Brick walls, moody lighting, plants everywhere, and a chalkboard outside: “Order A Margarita But Make It Spooky.” Time to see what the night had waiting.

I stepped inside and scanned the room, spotting him right away.

Preston stood near the hostess stand, checking his phone.

He was fine, I’ll give him that. Clean fade, thick beard, skin smooth like he drank water and minded his business.

He wore a fitted brown sweater that clung just enough to his chest, and he smelled like expensive cologne.

“Hey,” I said, walking over with a polite smile.

He looked up, smiled back, and said, “Damn, you even finer in person.”

Cute.

“Thanks,” I said. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

The hostess led us to a table near the back, and Preston actually pulled my chair out for me before taking his seat across from me.

I almost gave him credit. Almost. But I’d been on enough dates to know not to be fooled by manners.

We ordered food and drinks, and the moment the waitress disappeared, it began.

“So, you work in IT with The Cauldron Group?” I asked, sipping mine.

He grinned like he’d been waiting for that question all day. “Yeah, and that’s cool and all, but, uh, I’m really into crypto.”

Lord. Another one.

For the next thirty minutes, he talked like he had stock in every failed project from two years ago.

Gas fees. Rug pulls. The future of decentralized currency.

I nodded politely, my fork hovering over my Greek salad as he launched into a story about the time he almost invested in a coin called “Gorilla Baby Inu” and still considered it his biggest regret.

I smiled through it all, even let out a fake “Oh, wow, that’s wild” when appropriate, but internally I was crawling out of my own skin. I could feel my ovulation reversing like my eggs were packing their little bags and heading for the hills. Then came the kicker.

He switched gears and started dissecting his favorite Joe & Jada podcast episodes like they were scripture. “Nah, when Joe and Kiss were breaking down how loyalty’s a lost art in the game, like how dudes switch up for a bag… that shit hit me.”

I blinked. Slowly. So slow it nearly turned into a nap. When I asked what he was looking for in a woman—because I figured I might as well at least try to salvage the conversation—he leaned back, spreading his arms across the back of the booth like we’d just hit a vibe.

“Honestly? Somebody chill. No drama. No expectations. Just...vibes. I’m on a celibacy kick until marriage, so she just gotta be down with that.”

Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me. Celibate? Until marriage? Sir, I wore matching panties and shaved for this. My pussy was damn near humming like a tuning fork, and you over here talking like a youth pastor on a healing journey. Ain’t no way. I stabbed a piece of lettuce and smiled tightly.

By the time dessert came—a slice of strawberry cheesecake that I was too annoyed to enjoy—I already knew we’d never speak again. When the server dropped off the check, I didn’t even hesitate. I paid for my own portion and told him to take care. Back in my car, I texted Shawnee’s ass.

“This bitch, ” I murmured, tossing my phone into my bag and speeding off.

Back in my apartment, I tossed my clutch on the couch and slipped out of my boots with a groan. I was done. I opened a fresh bottle of wine, plopped onto the couch, and called the group chat.

“Somebody explain to me why I even leave my house,” I said as soon as they picked up. The screen lit up with my three favorite faces, Lenora, Chia, and Kadie. I needed to vent.

“Blind date was wack?” Lenora asked.

I held up my wine. “What you think?” I proceeded to tell them all about my dinner date from hell, and they groaned in unison.

“You know what this means,” Chia said, sitting up straighter. “We need to conjure you a man.”

I blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

Lenora started laughing. “Nah, for real! Remember that spell thing I told y’all about on TokTick? The one with the candle and the chant and the red wine?”

“I told you I ain’t into all that. Y’all tripping.”

“I’m serious,” she said. “It’s Halloween tomorrow! The veil is thin. Let’s just do it for fun.”

“Period! Let’s do this shit!” Kadie added.

“Y’all not about to get me possessed by some bald-headed ghost,” I said, sipping again.

“Come on, Wednesday,” Chia said. “One little spell. Just for shits and giggles. Say what you want. Be specific. Then drink your wine and go to sleep. Boom.”

I shook my head, but the wine had me giggling. I mean… what was the worst that could happen? “Fine,” I said. “But if I wake up to a demon stroking my thigh, I’m sending all y’all to hell with me.”