SJ nodded gruffly. “I should have known … they were acting so strangely. Well, stranger than they usually act, anyway. How did they do it?”

“Are you saying it was the Hounds who invited me tonight?”

He nodded again. “How did you receive the invitation?”

“It was a text message. Because I sent you one, to the FiendPay number! I—” I clamped my mouth shut because there was absolutely no way I was going to confess that I’d texted ‘Yo’ to him. “I … uh … I missed you. And I got replies from the number, so I … I assumed we were talking.” I felt a sudden surge of humiliation, that I’d been flirting over text with a pair of infernal dogs.

“Well … it appears I have a great deal to thank those ridiculous critters for, then,” SJ mused. “If they had not interfered, I would have been alone in my room tonight, pining miserably.”

That humiliated feeling dissipated, replaced with warmth trickling outwards from my chest. How did he keep saying things that wormed him even deeper into my heart?

“You’ve been pining for me?”

Another nod. “Amidst bouts of frantic masturbation after re-reading all the pornographic scenes in that book you loaned me, while picturing you and I in the roles of the main characters.”

I giggled, then squeaked at the feel of something trickling between my legs. It could have been all that devil jizz working its way out, but it was also almost that time of the month for me. I clambered out of bed and scuttled to the bathroom, taking one look between my legs to confirm my suspicions.

“Great timing, period!” I snapped. I snagged my menstrual cup out of its case when he knocked on the door.

“Are you well, Mouse?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.

A little laugh trumpeted out of me. “Just a bit of leaking blood, that’s all. It’s completely under control.”

I was adjusting my cup to the right spot when the handle turned on the door and SJ loomed over me.

“Where are you bleeding?” he demanded, his eyes wild when he saw me fiddling between my legs. “Did I … have I hurt you?”

“Oh my goodness, you overprotective thing!” I tugged the cup gently to ensure it was firm and straightened, washing my hands. I turned and gave his bicep a reassuring squeeze. “My period just started. You didn’t hurt me. But if you’re squeamish about⁠—”

“Nothing about your body could disgust me.”

I grinned. “Not even watching me prod around in my eye for my contact lenses?”

He folded his arms over his chest. “Nothing.”

I shrugged, turning back to the mirror. With a couple of quick movements, I had both of them out and back in their case. My vision was blurry, but I smiled at the SJ-shaped blob.