Page 89 of Hidden

“It’s not Miles,” I repeat, but the words feel like the biggest lie I’ve told. Heat floods my cheeks. I think of him in the library, no sleep shadowing his eyes, yet still seeing me so clearly. The way his quiet certainty had steadied my chaos. The way his rare smiles feel like something earned. The way I lie awake replaying the low timbre of his voice saying my name.

Lileah grins, shaking her head. “As his sister, the idea of Miles as anyone’s crush is gross. He’s not easy. Whoever ends up with him will need oceans of patience.”

The table quiets and I’m hoping it’s the last time I have to talk about Miles, because I’m going to start blushing, and tell them all how I’m itching to feel Miles on top of me. Crazy, I know it’s crazy, but thinking about Miles in all the wrong ways, takes me to a happy place, I’d like to stay in.

“Tomorrow,” Juno declares, setting her mug down. “We sleep. We eat well and we win regionals."

“We go and compete and have fun,” I murmur.

They need to know we’ll all try our best, but out of all of us, Juno puts the most pressure on herself. I have no idea why, but nothing but the best comes from her.

“We will win,” she insists.

I can’t argue. Not when every beat of my heart feels like it’s already racing toward him and not regionals.

***

I can’t sleep. We leave for regionals in the morning, and my mind is a storm of flips, twists, and every possible way I could humiliate myself on the mat. I pace the dorm room in slow circles, my arms wrapped tightly around my stomach, trying to breathe through the anxiety. Every time I close my eyes, I see myself falling. Failing. Letting everyone down.

I stop in front of the open laptop.

This is insane. This is the most dangerous, stupidest thing I’ve ever considered.

I know I shouldn’t. I know normal people don’t invite masked strangers who break into their room to fuck them just because they’re stressed. But the thought of his hands, his mouth, the way he made me come so hard I saw stars… it keeps pulling me back in.

This is crazy… I’m crazy.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I open the laptop and turn on the mic.

“Are you there?” My voice is barely a whisper.

The words appear almost instantly.

Yes. Always.

I take several deep, shaky breaths. My heart is pounding so violently I feel dizzy. I know this is wrong, yet I can’t stop myself.

Another message appears.

Is everything okay? You look tense.

I stand up and start pacing again, chewing on my thumbnail. What the hell am I doing? This man could be anyone. He could hurt me. He could ruin my life. But even as the fear spikes, so does the heat low in my belly. I stop, turn back to the laptop, and speak before my rational brain can stop me.

“I’m… really stressed about Regionals. I need to relax. I need to sleep so I’m fresh when we leave in the morning. I just… I need to turn my brain off.”

The cursor blinks.

Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.

My hands are trembling as I slowly peel off my tank top, then slide my shorts and panties down my legs. Cool air kisses my naked skin. I feel ridiculously exposed standing there in front of the laptop, but I don’t stop. I’m doing this. I’m actually doing this.

“I want you here,” I whisper, my voice shaking with nerves and need. “I want your hands on me… I want to feel you inside me.”

The screen goes completely black. I wait hoping he’ll turn it back on, but there’s nothing.

Oh god, I went too far. He’s disgusted, or he’s coming to kill me. I stand there frozen, my heart hammering, shame and arousal twisting together so tightly I can barely breathe.

You know, if I’m dead in the morning, there’s no one to blame but myself. I invited him here; I invited him to have sex with me. What fucking stupid idiot does that? Oh, I know the answer to that. Me.