Page 41 of Wells

"Never." He says it like the word amuses him. "Uh, huh. So when are we doing it again?"

“I just told you, never. One and done. I just hope it isn't weird on Monday."

"Don't kill all my dreams." He sighs at the sky. "Tragic."

"Locke, we work together every day. It can't happen again."

He stands and brushes cake crumbs off his yoga pants. He holds out a hand to pull me up.

"Come on. You need food that is not sugar and a drink that is not coffee."

I take his hand and let him pull me to my feet. The blankets fold into messy squares, and I carry them under my arm while we walk back toward the street.

The day doesn't fix anything. If anything, I might be more jumbled than before. Tomorrow night's call with Midnight suddenly has a whole new anxiety attached to it.

The call comes late Sunday, and I am already sitting on the couch waiting, the wig brushed, the mask in place, my laptop open. I haven't stopped thinking about Friday. The desk, Wells's hands, the stretch of him inside me.

Then, of course, the guilt followed me home and has been with me all weekend, even after Locke's unconventional pep talk.

Midnight needs to be the thing that makes sense again.

The screen loads black, and his voice comes through. The green light is now on, letting me know he's with me.

"Peoria."

"Hey, you."

Silence stretches too long. I shift on the couch, pulling my T-shirt down, now more shy than I was on Thursday. I have my full disguise on, but I didn't dress up in sexy clothes tonight.

"Everything okay?" I ask him, sensing he's quieter tonight, too.

"Yes."

The word is clipped. He sounds farther away than usual, and the distance hits my stomach wrong. I wait for him to say more, but he doesn't.

"Have you had a nice weekend?"

"I worked, but that's normal."

I swallow. The coldness presses in, and it stings more than it has any right to. I try again, softer this time, giving him room to settle.

"Do you want me to..."

"Not tonight."

The words land like a slap. I blink at the screen, waiting for the explanation that does not come. My chest tightens. It's almost like he knows, like somehow he found out I "cheated" on him, even though I know that's absurd.

"Midnight."

"I wanted to log on because we had our date, but I actually have to go tonight. I wanted to see you, but I'm sorry I can't stay."

"You have to go? Now?"

He doesn't even wait for me to finish talking. The call ends, and the green light goes red.

What the hell?

I sit there staring at nothing. My hands shake. I pull the mask off and drop it on the couch beside me. The wig follows. I press my palms into my knees and try to breathe through the knot drawing tight under my breastbone.