Page 38 of Hide From Me

That gets my attention. My eyes narrow as I shift to face her fully.

“How would you know?” I say a little more bitterly than intended. I don’t like the idea of someone I know, knowing him better than me. I found him… or he found me. We found each other. Oh God no, that’s too corny. Either way, I’m the one whose name he’s moaning when he is home so I have a right to be jealous. Or do I? I mean there’s no set rules to it. For fucks sakes, now my mind won't stop the spiral it's found and all I wanted tonight was to tease the man who makes me see stars since he can’t do anything about it. Did I feel guilty about how our first time went? Maybe a little considering he was so sweet and gentle at first that it was borderline swoon worthy. He held onto me like a lifeline and yet I couldn’t stop my walls from blocking his way in. Or at least I thought I couldn't, now with every passing day and short message or phone call I get, I feel myself growing closer to him. I want to know more about how the fucked up world kicked him down just for him to smile in its face.

“I worked with him.” Laura says but I don’t think her words ease much of my inner turmoil. If anything it only intensifies. Maybe shedoesknow him better than me.

“And you’re just now telling me this?” My phone chimes but I don’t take my glare away from Laura as she lets out a frustrated sigh and pushes her glasses up her nose.

“YouknowI can’t talk about what I do. He’s the same way. If he hasn’t told you, that should be a sign.”

She’s frustrated now, fishing a cigarette from the bowl on the table.

“What about the fact thatyoufailed to mention knowing him this whole time?” I snap. “You’re lecturing me about secrets while keeping your own.”

Laura goes still, lighter poised in midair.

“You’re right,” she says. “I guess it’s because Idoknow him. Which means I can say he might not be what’s best for you.”

The anger simmers in my blood, but I shove it down. Barely.

“I’m only saying it because I love you,” she adds. “I’m not Jack. I’m not going to tiptoe around this. You’re the closest friend I’ve got, Ray. I just don’t want to see you hurt.”

I swallow hard.

There’s nothing to say to that because beneath my frustration and jealousy, I know she means it. She just doesn’tknow himlike I do.

I finally glance down.

FaceTime me and I’ll show you differently.

Laura rises from the couch. “Sleep well, Ray. Stay as long as you want.”

I nod, not trusting my voice. She disappears upstairs, her words still ringing in my ears like a warning bell but I can’t hear the alarm over the hum in my chest.

I don’t have the right to demand answers from Moe. We agreed to something casual. We built our walls for a reason. Still, he’s given me more than I expected—with every glance, every word, every gentle unraveling.

I hover over the stupid picture he sent a few weeks ago—grey sweats, tight white tank top, smug, annoyingly hot. I hesitate. I don’t want to get caught giggling like a schoolgirl, but Jack sleeps like a rock, and Laura will probably avoid me for the rest of the night.

I shift on the couch, turning the TV volume up a few clicks, and smooth down my hair with my fingers. This is what I need—a distraction. One that looks like sin and makes me forget the weight of the world.

Without giving myself another moment to hesitate, I click the little green button and stare at myself on the screen. I’ve always hated this part when itcomes to FaceTiming someone—where you just sit there awkwardly looking at yourself until a face replaces your own.

“One second, baby,”Moe murmurs as he answers—but all I see is black.

“I could’ve just called you regularly, you know,” I mutter, glancing at the TV. The movie’s long over; credits are rolling with a creepy-ass violin track in the background.

“I wanted to see your pretty face. Just let me…”There’s a click, a shuffle, and the rustle of plastic beneath weight.“There.”

His face flickers into view, dimly lit in hues of blue and white that trace the sharp lines of his jaw and the tired circles under his eyes. My gaze flicks past him, scanning for details, but I lose all focus the second he props the phone up. He’s leaned back on what looks like a small cot, nothing but thin white sheets beneath him, wearing a worn olive green hoodie and gray sweats that cling just a little too well. My mouth goes dry.

There’s no excuse for a man to look this good in something so simple.

“Does your job not provide five-star accommodations?” I tease under my breath.

His smirk pulls slow and cocky.“Sunshine, I’m living in luxury right now. High-speed internet, silk sheets, twenty-four-hour buffet…”

“Bullshit.” I snort, eyeing the paper-thin sheets behind him. They look like they’d trap cold instead of heat. “You’d freeze your arse off under those.”

He shrugs like it doesn’t matter.“Some places are nicer than others.”

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