Chapter Twenty-Four

Billy Goat Creeps with Donkey Dicks

Dan

When I woke up on Thursday morning, I was determined to fix things with Rafe.

I needed to apologise to him. Explain what I'd been thinking, what I'd wrongly assumed, and tell him that I never would've left so soon if I'd known the other night was his first time with a guy.

I'd originally been planning on going into work early today, but I scrapped the idea when I peered outside and saw Rafe's car still in his driveway. Restless energy made me jittery. I wanted to go over there now and get this sorted, but it was still pretty early. Didn't want to piss him off even more.

I decided to take a shower while I waited, not sure why I was feeling the need to look my best when I went over there. After pulling on a pair of jeans that hugged my ass nicely and a tight blue T-shirt that I knew for a fact made my eyes pop, I went back downstairs and made a pot of coffee.

When I peered out the window, I couldn't see any movement in Rafe's kitchen, but there was a plain black carrier bag on the island. I could just about make out the open lid of a cardboard box poking out from the top of it.

I eyed it for a second with mild intrigue, then turned to grab a mug from the cupboard.

I was feeling weirdly nervous about going over there. I never got nervous.

It was just because I knew I'd fucked up so bad, I decided as I poured coffee into my cup. I hesitated, then grabbed another mug from the cupboard.

Rafe had seemed to soften a little that night I'd made him a hot cocoa. I could take him a nice cup of freshly brewed coffee to show him how sorry I was. And that I was a great neighbour, or at least was going to start making an effort to be one.

Except I didn't actually know how he took his coffee. No, wait, I did—I'd seen him stirring creamer into it when I went to talk to Holt about Frank and Beans. But I didn't have any creamer, because I took my coffee black. Shit.

I chewed anxiously on my lower lip, then decided I'd take it over anyway. He'd have his own creamer. The gesture still counted.

When I stepped out onto my front porch, carefully carrying the two steaming mugs, I noticed how sunny and warm it was today. Hopefully that meant Rafe would be in a more agreeable mood. He seemed like the type to become extra sullen when the weather was miserable. Not me, though. I didn't let much bother me, so I certainly wasn't going to let the weather do it.

I walked across my front yard to his, but paused when I glanced up and saw that his bedroom curtains were shut.

Was he still asleep? I'd assumed Rafe was an early riser. One to stick to a schedule—up at the same time every day.

I hesitated, looking down at the two cups of coffee. I had to get this right. Time it perfectly. Rafe was such a prickly thing that if he was just the slightest bit too tired, or stressed, or already annoyed when I tried to talk to him, I was pretty sure he'd stubbornly decide to ignore me forever and refuse to ever, ever waver from that decision.

My mouth tipped up into a tiny smile. His stubbornness was kind of cute. Well, it would've been if I hadn't been the one on the proverbial chopping block.

"Good morning, Daniel!" I heard before I could make up my mind over what to do. Turning, I saw Mrs. Tupper, the elderly succubus who lived opposite, shuffling across the street toward me in her gardening clogs.

"Good morning, ma'am," I said with a smile.

"Don't you look handsome today?" She joined me on Rafe's front lawn and peered at the cups of coffee in my hand. "I was just doing some deadheading when I spotted you. How are you, dear?"

I suppressed a sigh, glancing at Rafe's house. I'd helped Mrs. Tupper out several times with household chores and a bit of DIY, because I was a good southern boy like that, so we were friendly. Plus, she was a sweet old lady. My momma wouldn't be happy if I wasn't nice to the sweet old lady across the street.

"I'm good thanks, Mrs. Tupper," I said politely. "How have you been?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but a faint sound from the direction of Rafe's house made us both pause. It sounded like someone yelling "Fuck!" from upstairs.

From Rafe's bedroom.

I looked over, a frown pulling at my brows. His curtains were still shut up there. My frown deepened. What was he doing?

Was he having sex?

I found myself bristling as the thought wormed its way into my brain. Who was Rafe having sex with?

"I'm doing good, honey," Mrs. Tupper said, and I slowly dragged my gaze back to her, trying to clear the frown from my face. She was smiling up at me brightly. "Actually, while I have you… did I mention the last time we spoke that my granddaughter is coming to visit in a few weeks?"

Trying not to think about what Rafe was doing, I managed to smile as I huffed in amusement. "You did."

She mentioned it every single time her granddaughter came to visit.

"She just got her PHD! Such a smart girl. Well, not a girl ." She laughed lightly. "A full-grown woman. Wonderfully capable and independent. And one hundred per cent succubus through and through."

I sighed. "Mrs. Tupper, I know you—"

Another sound from Rafe's house had me stopping mid-sentence and whipping my head back around. This time it had sounded like something crashing to the floor. I tensed, then tensed even more when I faintly heard him yell, "Fuck you!"

Okay, maybe he wasn't having sex.

That didn't sound good.

"Oh dear." Mrs. Tupper chuckled. "As I was saying, Daniel, I know you enjoy your… bachelor lifestyle, but you really should consider settling down soon. And Laney is just so wonderful. And a succubus," she reiterated brightly, as if that would sway me.

Still frowning at Rafe's house, which had gone quiet again, I shook my head and took a step toward it. "I think I should—"

"Oh, I wouldn't interrupt, dear." Mrs. Tupper laughed lightly.

Nostrils flaring, I whipped my head back around to frown at her. "Interrupt what?"

"He's…" She wiggled her fingers in the direction of Rafe's house, then lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. " Preoccupied. Trust me, dear. I'm a succubus. I can feel that specific energy from a mile off." She raised her wispy brows at me meaningfully.

My jaw clenched. So he was having sex with someone? Who?

"But… it sounded like something fell over," I said, something unpleasant wriggling through my gut as I glanced at the house again. "And he yelled—"

"Yes, it seems our quiet ghoul neighbour is a bit more adventurous in the bedroom than we realised, hmm?" She laughed and reached out to touch my arm as I stared up at Rafe's bedroom windows. " Anyway , dear, I'd be so delighted if you came over for dinner once Laney arrives. Just to get to know her a bit better."

Who was Rafe having angry, furniture-throwing sex with? That billy goat creep with the donkey dick?

What the fuck?

"Daniel, honey?" Mrs. Tupper patted my arm. Realising I was being rude, I forced my gaze back to her. She glanced at the two mugs in my hand again, then over at Rafe's, a hint of suspicion filling her eyes. "Were you… heading over to see Rafe?"

A wave of humiliation made heat climb up my throat. Here I was, standing on his front lawn with a cup of coffee for him, while he was—according to Mrs. Tupper—busy having wild, animalistic sex with someone.

Potentially a guy with a donkey dick.

"No," I said quickly, shaking my head and offering no explanation for the second cup I was holding.

"Oh." She seemed pleased by my answer, beaming at me. "So, what do you say?"

"Uh… I… sure," I said distractedly, not really knowing what I'd just agreed to.

"Wonderful!" She clapped her hands, looking beyond excited, which made me a little nervous. "I really do think you'll get along fabulously, and I would just love to see you settled down and happy, Daniel. Lucifer knows you've kept an old succubus well-fed over the years with all that"—she coughed delicately—" energy coming from your house, but I do think it's time, dear. And I'm sure your mother would just love to get all dolled up for a wedding…?"

I paled, taking a reflexive step back. I wasn't sure which part was making me feel more nauseated—the mention of marriage, or the fact that the sweet little old lady from across the street had just informed me that she'd been feeding on my residual sex energy all this time.

No, I was sure. It was definitely the former.

"I should probably go get ready for work." I flashed her a brief smile as I backed away. "Got a show tonight."

"Alright, dear. Good luck in your show!" she called after me as I turned and walked quickly back to my house.

Once inside, I stopped and looked around blankly, breathing kind of hard. That uncomfortable feeling was still crawling through my gut, and I didn't fucking like it. I was really pissed off and I didn't know why.

With a huff, I slammed the two cups down on the coffee table and stomped over to the window that faced Rafe's house. Frowning, I peered through the slats of the blind, trying to see into his living room. There was no one in there. Probably because he was still upstairs. Having passionate sex with donkey dick guy.

Well, fine. Fine then. That was fine. I didn't even care.

I shoved open the window just in case I'd be able to hear anything better from here, but it was quiet next door once again. My mouth flattened into a grim line.

Just as I stepped back, I heard another shout come from his house and stiffened instantly.

"Just get the fuck off me!"

Okay, no, fuck this. Something was definitely wrong. He sounded distressed.

Those weren't sex noises. Mrs. Tupper had been wrong. Or lying. Now I was angry at myself for letting her convince me they were, just because she'd wanted to keep me out there to try and set me up with her damn granddaughter for the millionth time. There was no other car on Rafe's drive, and of course he wouldn't be having sex with the billy goat creep he and his friend had laughed about. I didn't even know why that had popped into my head.

Had someone broken into his house? Were they trying to rob him and he'd woken up and caught them?

Turning, I ran for the door, but skidded to a halt when I noticed the key sitting on the edge of my TV stand. I'd forgotten to return his spare key after using it to lock up when I put his drunk ass to bed.

Snatching it up, I ran into the hall and grabbed the baseball bat from the closet, then sprinted out of the house and across my yard. My heart was pounding as I tripped on the steps of his front porch, but a second later I was jamming the key into the lock.

"Rafe!" I bellowed as I burst into his house, baseball bat poised and ready to beat the shit out of whoever was hurting him.

I came to an abrupt halt when, instead, through the door to the kitchen, I saw Rafe alone. Naked. Squatting. His balls dangling directly over a bowl of bright red sauce on the ground.

And a pumpkin jutting out between his hips.

All the fight drained from me, replaced by utter shock as I slowly lowered the baseball bat and stared at him in disbelief.

Not even disbelief. I just couldn't quite process what I was seeing.

Rafe gazed up at me, his face flushed and damp with sweat, expression one of abject misery. He looked close to tears.

"There's a pumpkin stuck on my dick," he croaked.