Page 125

“There you are.” Casper drops into a crouch and his whole demeanor changes, shoulders softening as he talks to her like she’s a person.

I hunch down next to him and she waddles closer. I can’t help but whimper an “aww” under my breath. Holy shit, how is she so cute?

Debra blinks up at him and he opens the carton of blueberries, shaking a couple into his hand. He sets it behind him, then grasps my wrist and pours some of the juicy morsels from his palm into mine. When she gets closer, he holds out a single berry to her and she takes it carefully, then bites down and instantly looks for the next one.

“Can I pet her?”

“Sure.”

“Is she going to bite me?”

“No.” He picks her up. He picks up a fucking possum like she’s no more than a housecat, then turns her to me.

“Hi,” I say cautiously.

Debra blinks at me and I hold out a berry. She quickly takes it and I startle, yanking my hand back. Casper watches me like this is the best thing he’s seen all day.

I feed her a few more berries before I gain enough confidence to reach out and stroke her back. “She looks like a Debra,” I whisper, not wanting to scare her.

“Right?”

“Does she live in those bushes?”

He nods behind me, and I twist and bark out a laugh. Oh my God—it looks like a giant dollhouse.

I turn back to him. “You built her a house?”

“Thor did.”

“Casper.”

“She needed somewhere to stay.”

“You’re her daddy,” I pout. “That’s so sweet.”

He scoffs. “I’m your daddy.”

My brain stops. Full system shutdown. Even as a joke, my cheeks turn aggressively hot.

He looks pleased with himself after seeing my reaction.

“You can’t say that,” I mutter, tucking a loose hair behind my ear.

“Why not?” He tilts his head.

I gesture to Debra, feeding her the last berry in my hand. “Because she’s right there.”

He glances down. “She doesn’t care. She’s a possum.”

“No, she’s not, she’s a child.”

He chuckles, and I glance back to the furry critter, because if I look at him too long, I’m going to say something that escalates this further and I don’t trust myself not to.

Debra snuffles at my empty hand. I clear my throat and gather another handful of blueberries from the carton behind him and feed the rest to her.

After we feed Debra and she disappears into her leaf pile for her nightly adventure, we return inside, wash up, and easily fall into the rhythm of dinner. Casper presents a spread of deli containers from the fridge and I steal bites while pretending to help. The carpet picnic is delicious, but even better, it’s simple and casual. He finishes giving me a quick tour; the remaining rooms are mostly empty like the others, but I don’t say anything. And before I know it, we’re back under the canvas getting comfy.

It’s the same space as before, mattress pulled into the middle of the room—but as soon as he flips off the lights, except for one down the hallway to his bedroom, we’re doused in shadows. Music plays from a portable speaker nearby, a warm, intimate melody that settles into the background.