Page 22 of Little Horrors & Deceptions

He sidled up beside me, still in his towel, nudging me with an elbow. “So, when are you going to have some fun with being undercover?” he asked, fluttering his lashes at me, and I knew exactly who he was talking about.

I buckled the straps of my heels. “Probably not at all,” I began, a frown tugging on my lips. “You won’t believe it, but Liam thought you were my boyfriend.”

He paused, one eyebrow arching in disbelief. “You’re kidding. Did you tell him the truth?”

“Of course,” I said, standing and flexing my feet to adjust to the shoes’ incline. I took a few steps, testing the give of the soles, the way my calf muscles stretched and held. I hadn’t worn heels in forever. “I told him you were my brother.”

The words felt strange as they left my mouth, not because they were completely false, but because there was a depth to our relationship that made them feel both right and wrong at the same time. Jonathan reallywaslike a brother to me. We'd been through hell together, always having each other's backs. We shared secrets, fears, and moments of vulnerability that no oneelse knew about. He was the first one I called when things went sideways, in the field or in my personal life, and I was the one he trusted to keep him grounded.

I glanced over at him, his towel still hanging precariously low on his hips, and couldn’t help but smile. We bickered like siblings, teased like old friends, and somewhere along the line, he had become my family, the one constant in a world where everything else was in flux. I often wondered what would happen to us once he found out the truth.

I watched his face for a reaction as he stood in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame.

His brows knitted together for a moment before he shrugged it off, a laugh escaping him. “And?” he prodded, his eyes alight with curiosity, the corners crinkling with amusement.

A small grin tugged at my lips. “He walked away all huffy puffy, talking about how it doesn’t change anything.” My hands found my hips as I recalled Liam’s stiff posture.

Johnathan let out a snort, shaking his head. “Oh… it changes everything.” He stood and turned, stepping back into the bathroom, his laughter trailing behind him. “I promise you it is far from over between you two.”

I tilted my head, listening to the splash of water and the rustle of fabric. “What are you doing?” I called out, curiosity sharpening my tone.

There was a pause, then Johnathan’s voice floated through the crack in the door. “I’m getting ready,” he said, a sense of urgency threading his words. “I want to go through Dead Man’s.” The shift in his tone piqued my interest. Haunted houses were more my thrill than his.

“Let me guess… by meeting later this week, you meant tonight. Because a hot guy is the only reason you would be caught dead in a haunted house,” I stated, lifting a brow, and he poked his head out of the bathroom slowly with a knowing look on his face.

“Guilty as charged. Arrest me, officer,” he said, putting out his hands for cuffs, and we both laughed.

I arrived at the mansion an hour early. The first Fright Night of the season had to be perfect. As I was doing a walkthrough, a floorboard creaked behind me. I spun around and collided with a solid, bare chest. My eyes traveled up from chiseled abs—abs I’d know anywhere—to meet a blood-spattered Ghostface mask.

“Jesus, Liam!” I gasped, stumbling backward. “You scared the hell out of me.”

He chuckled, low and melodic, lifting the mask. Those piercing green eyes crinkled with amusement, gleaming under the dim lights. “Isn’t that the point, Jade?”

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breathing, but the sight of him shirtless, with fake blood dripping down his sharp jawline had me completely off-balance. My pulse thudded in my ears, heat licking up my neck. The deep red of the blood made the angles of his face look even more defined, more dangerous, and damn if it didn’t stir something inside me. The awareness of his body, so close, made my skin hum with an undeniable need.

“I didn’t realize you were a scare actor,” I managed, my voice barely steady.

“What? You thought I was all business and no fun?” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to that low timbre that sent shivers to every place it shouldn’t. “Like what you see?”

The air thickened. My breath hitched, and every rational thought I had disintegrated in the heat of the moment. Desire twisted in my gut, a yearning I couldn’t ignore no matter how hard I tried. His nearness, the scent of him—musky, with a hint of sandalwood and mint—wrapped around me, pulling me in.

I felt my cheeks burn as I struggled to form a coherent thought, let alone a witty response. My body had already betrayed me, leaning slightly toward him, magnetized by the warmth radiating off his skin. My fingers twitched at my sides, desperate to reach out, to trace the lines of his chest, to feel those abs under my touch.

I bit my lip, as my gaze flicked back to his eyes, now darker, more intense, like he knew exactly what was going through my head. Damn it. I wasn’t supposed to want this—want him—but it was like every inch of me was screaming otherwise.

Liam’s gaze intensified. “Cat got your tongue?” He looked down at me, motioning toward my own costume for tonight. As if on cue, a faint meow echoed from down the hall.

We both froze. “Did you hear that?” I whispered.

Liam nodded, all playfulness vanishing. “Fucking Bones, damn cat gets into everything. I think it came from this way.”

We followed the sound, squeezing through a narrow corridor. Cobwebs clung to my hair. The meowing grew louder, leading us to a small supply closet that looked like it hadn’t been used in years, tucked away and forgotten in the corner, used more for decoration than a work space.

“Bones, here, boy,” I called softly, cracking open the door and walking in.

A blur of black fur shot past my legs, tripping me. I stumbled backward, knocking into a rickety shelf. It teetered then crashed to the floor, blocking the exit. The door slammed shut behind us. Darkness engulfed us. Panic suddenly clawed at my throat. Thewalls seemed to close in, suffocating me. I hated tight spaces, hated feeling trapped.

“Well”—Liam’s voice cut through the gloom—“isn’t this just cozy.” I couldn’t breathe. My chest began constricting painfully. “Jade?” Liam’s teasing tone shifted. “Are you alright?”

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