Page 20 of Wells

"I'm not talking about this with you."

"You should be. You've been stuck in your head for months. The only man you've touched is a voice on your laptop."

"Locke."

"What? Maybe the hot, terrible boss is exactly what you need to finally clear Cas out of your system."

"No wonder you work for yourself. That's a terrible idea, and plus, I have no interest in the man. Stop making everything about sex. I'm serious."

Locke shrugs and tosses the pillow back onto the couch.

"Just saying, I'm looking out for your best interest."

"Stop trying to get me laid. That's not helpful. I'm done with sex, anyway."

Locke tilts his head. His grin softens into something closer to concern. "Okay, then Midnight's gravelly voice and sexual commands will have to do, I suppose. He can be your boyfriend until you get tired of him."

"He's not my boyfriend."

Even as I say it, a sense of affection rises up in my chest about him. Do I have feelings for a faceless man I've only talked to online late at night? One who pays me, no less, for my time?

"You talk to him for hours. You light up when he calls, and arrange your real life activities around your calls. That's not just a transaction, Cera."

"I know exactly what it is and what it isn't."

My face heats as I stand up fast, crossing to the window where the light hits warmer. I press my palms against the sill and breathe in through my nose.

Locke's voice comes quieter behind me. "I know. I'm just saying maybe you're allowed to want more than survival."

My throat tightens, and I cross my arms over my chest.

"I want stability. I want to stop depending on anyone else and build something that's mine and can't be taken away. That's what I want. No boyfriends, no sex."

"Okay. I'll stop pushing, then."

I exhale. "Thank you."

He bumps my shoulder with his and grins again, smaller this time. "But if you do end up sleeping with the boss, I want details."

I shove him, and he laughs, backing toward the kitchen. "Get out of my apartment."

"It's my apartment," he huffs back.

"Then I'm leaving. I've got to fill out new hire paperwork and submit for a background check."

SIX

Cera

Behind the Mask: New Orleanians have always said things behind a disguise they would never say barefaced, the cover loosening the tongue. The truest thing she owns slips out only because no one can see who is saying it.

I settle the elastic behind my ears, tilt my head until the molded edge sits right, and flick on the ring light. Warm white floods the room, turning the platinum wig almost silver in the reflection on my monitor.

I haven't gone live yet, but I can see he's already logged on. A rush of excitement courses through me that probably shouldn't be there.

After clicking the red connect button, the green dot beside the camera blinks awake. I'm live.

I had my first day at my new job today. The thought of wanting to tell Midnight about it has been knocking around in me since I walked into that big, glass building this morning. That is the ridiculous, dangerous truth of it. Out of every person in my life, the one who has never seen my real face is the one I want to hand it to.