Page 99 of Shattered Veil

It was unsettling being away from her. The daunting unknown that surrounded us—the mystery of whether Cassie was someone who could still be in danger—was an unfortunate constant…and the feeling of separation after deeming her presence a necessity squeezed my heart in a vice grip while I drove. But because it was, in fact, a constant—because there was no definitive yes or no to the question of her safety—because all we could do was stick together as a group, as we always did—normal life just…had to go on.

I listened to nothing but the sound of tires roaring against the highway pavement, and my attempt to will away my nervous meanderings was naught.

That is, until my phone lit up with a notification. Propped in its usual position in the mount to the right of the steering wheel, my eyes were off of the road for only a moment to glance at the screen. It read:

Cassie 7:43 A.M.: Have a good day. Analyze the fuck out of those spreadsheets. x.

The grip in my chest loosened as I let out a hearty chuckle; my cheeks heated as I quickly read it for a second time, and it was all I could do to unlock the screen with a swipe of my finger. I tapped on the glass face twice—first to access my call log and again to hit her name—and the ring only sounded through my car speaker twice before she answered.

“Long time no talk,” she cooed.

“Just assuring you that my spreadsheets will be thoroughly analyzed,” I said. “Vlookups and pivot tables are sexy, right?”

She laughed softly. “You don’t use index match? Or Xlookup? We should see other people.”

The only way I could describe the noise that erupted from me was a giggle.

“God, I like you.”

Cassie hummed happily. “The feeling is very mutual.”

My cheeks began to ache. “You’re speaking pretty damn freely. I take it that no one else is awake yet?”

“Nope,” she replied wistfully. “All by my lonesome. Lying on the couch. Wishing it was your bed.”

“You know…it’s dangerous to give a man an erection while he’s driving,” I remarked in a sultry tone. “Blood flow away from the brain impairs reaction time.”

“Does it, now?” I could hear her smile.

“Mhm.”

“That’s too bad,” she simpered.

“Thankfully, I’m a different breed of man,” I confidently quipped.

“Are you really that exceptional of a driver?”

I was intending to respond with a joke referencing my ability to maintain a level head while my cock was hard. She would have disagreed because she knew as well as I did that that was a bald-faced lie. Our newfound filthy banter would have been a delight that yanked my head further out of the darkness that hung over me, and perhaps it would have even stretched on until I was pulling into the parking lot at work. I could see myself remaining in the warmth of my vehicle, minutes passing as we continued to chat away, and I would eventually stroll into work—guiltlessly several minutes late.

The red and blue flashing lights that illuminated behind me rendered all of that null and void, and all I could do was groan:

“I’m getting pulled over.”

“So…no, you aren’t that exceptional of a driver, then,” she mocked.

I eyed a shoulder further up the highway in which I could pull over and flicked on my blinker to change lanes.

“Come on, Cas.”

“Were you speeding?” she asked, gentler.

“I don’t know,” I checked my blind spot over my right shoulder. “Maybe.”

“Not the best start to a Monday,” she sympathetically noted.

I slowly braked. “It was going so well for a minute, there.”

Cassie whispered, “Sorry, baby.”

---