Page 21 of Masks and Mishaps

“So, in a perfect world, the entire reality you have right now doesn’t exist,” Everett clarifies.

“Pretty much.”

“Look,” Lander begins, “I don’t understand what you and Essie have. If it were me, I would have fucked Valeria at the first reasonable opportunity—”

“That’s exactly what you did, Lan,” Everett mutters.

“—but I’m telling you to treat this delicately,” he finishes.

“I know. I know we can’t do it again, but it kills me.”

“It’s that bad, Dalt?” Everett asks. “You guys only did it once. If anything, screwing is just a few steps up from watching her while she cams.”

“I don’t watch her though.”

Lander draws his head back. “What?”

I shrug. “I stopped subscribing once I met her.”

“Why?” he demands, voice nearly cracking. “For the love of god,why?”

I glance between Lander and Everett. “I didn’t want to overstep since we were becoming friends,” I answer, trailing off as I move further along my sentence. “Didn’t you stop once—”

“Nope.” Lander shakes his head. “Literally didn’t even occur to me.”

“I once pulled an all-nighter watching Cora’s old streams,” Everett adds.

“I started watchingmore, actually,” Lander muses.

And then Pierre rests his head on my thigh, which makes me think he’s pitying me.

My jaw lowers. “Well, why didn’t you guys tell me?”

“We were busy with our camgirls,” Lander answers, smirking. He checks his phone. “Hey, Cora says she’s with Valeria and they’re bringing Essie over.”

“Valeria still hasn’t found her phone?” Everett asks.

“Nope. She’s been tracking it though. Last night, whoever stole it brought it to Penn Quarter.”

“Asshole,” Everett mutters while I shift in my seat.

Penn Quarter—my neighborhood. Oops.

“Anyway, Dalt,” Lander continues, “be normal. Don’t make it a big deal, and it won’t be a big deal.”

Right then, the door opens to reveal Valeria, Cora, and Essie—and Essie looks so gorgeous. Her long hair drapes over her shoulders, and the soft brown of her eyes offsets the gold in her skin, which is tinged pink from the brisk November morning.

She was supposed to be mine. For a few minutes last night, I really thought she was mine.

“I love you,” I blurt out as soon as our eyes connect.

“Jesus, Dalton,” Everett mutters, propping his elbow on the arm of the couch and pressing his palm against his forehead while Lander sighs and hisses, “Comeon.”

Ten

ESSIE

DaltonsayingI love youforces me to an abrupt stop before I reflexively step backwards into Cora, whose hands cup my shoulders. Her long, black fingernails dent my skin, and I’ve learned to recognize her familiar, reassuring touch since we became friends four years ago.

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