Childhood Promises, Grown-Up Disappointments

I was about to answer, but then those floating comments barged in again.

[Here we go again: forbidden fruit, then abandonment, then the chase. Is this premium content or what?]

[Can we stop with the female leads who throw themselves at guys? We have standards too!]

[She just sleeps with her childhood friend and gets dumped—serves her right.]

My brain hit pause. Wait, what?

These weird floating comments were really starting to freak me out. It felt like I was starring in some reality show, and the audience was just roasting me live.

I blinked. Nope. Still there. The words hovered, taunting me. My skin prickled, and I felt like I was under a spotlight—every move picked apart. Not exactly a pep talk.

Since when did succubi need permission to hook up with someone?

I let out a soft snort, rolling my eyes. If these invisible trolls knew anything about my kind, they’d know we don’t exactly wait around for invites.

Mason and I grew up together—next-door neighbors, best friends, all up in each other’s business since forever.

We’d spent summers racing bikes until the streetlights came on, dared each other to jump off the quarry dock, and snuck out for midnight milkshakes. Our moms used to joke we were attached at the hip. Sometimes, I believed it.

When I turned eighteen, Mason tricked me into crossing the line.

It started as a dumb dare during a blackout thunderstorm—one of those nights where the world feels like it’s holding its breath. But after that, everything shifted between us—boundaries blurred, and suddenly I was starving for something I couldn’t name.

After that, my succubus side woke up—and suddenly I needed regular...relief. Like, a lot.

It was like someone cranked up the intensity on my life. Everything felt sharper, more urgent. I started craving things I couldn’t explain, and my dreams got way too NSFW.

I never told anyone. I just quietly kept Mason as my go-to hookup.

It was easy. No awkward convos, no weird looks. He was safe, familiar, and—at first—down for it.

Honestly, after a while, it got kind of old.

The excitement fizzled fast. It turned into a routine, and halfway through, I’d find myself mentally sorting laundry or planning my next study session. So much for steamy romance.

But...

I watched Mason’s lean waist vanish under his black T-shirt and forced myself to say, "You’re really gonna leave me hanging?"

He’d only gone once, left me stranded, and now he wanted to bail? Not even a little aftercare. Rude.

I tried to sound chill, but yeah, there was a bite under it. I guess I wanted him to at least pretend to give a damn.

Mason shot me a look, pure sarcasm: "What right do you have to complain? You don’t actually think we’re dating, do you?"

I stared at him, wide-eyed. "Of course not..."

He was seriously overthinking this. Dude, get over yourself.

I mean, sure, at first I hoped for something more, but eventually, the way he made me feel...meh.

Before I could finish, Mason cut me off.

He waved me away, like he was swatting a fly. "Good. We’re basically family, Autumn. If I dated you, it’d be like dating my sister. Weird, right?"

"You’re good-looking, and you’ve got a killer figure..."

He switched gears: "But don’t worry, even if I start dating Savannah, I won’t forget about you."

So Mason meant...he wanted to keep hooking up with me on the side? Seriously?