Page 60 of Birdy

“My bad, Bala.” Licking my lips slowly, I give him a leisurely once-over, imagining this very same position without all these layers of clothes. “I dropped my scrunchie.”

He looks like he both wants to kill me and fuck me senseless, earning him a knowing smirk.

How’s it feel, huh?

Poor guy is trying so hard not to smile, visibly chewing on the inside of his cheeks. Takes him a beat, but eventually, he squeezes me one last time and shakes his head. “Right. Well, next time, maybe keep the scrunchie on your wrist while we’re in line. C’mon, let’s go.”

“What if it’s in my hair,” I toss back, lips thinning in amusement as he gives me the side-eye and motions for me to go first.

“Then keep it in your hair.”

“But what if—”

“Just keep moving.” He sneaks in a soft tap to my ass. “And follow my lead.”

Follow his lead?“What are you—”

“Shhh.” Another tap effectively silences me. “Put on thatmalitamask of yours and act normal.”

My bad girl mask, he said.

Okay…? I’m curious as all hell but decide to just keep my mouth shut and observe. My head’s spinning with the possibilities as I fall into line behind Yanet, noting we’re almost at the laundry room.

What does this man have planned up his sleeve? Where? I’ve walked these halls hundreds of times. There isn’t anywhere to hide that’s not in the camera’s view.

Am I missing something?

Evidently so because right when we all hug the corner toward laundry, Andrés tugs on my shirt for me to stop and waits until Walker’s nearly at the entry before he calls out, “Hey, Walker!”

The CO stops immediately—halting the rest of the line in the process—and pivots to acknowledge us. Most of the heads in front of me do the same, questioning glances and curious stares all honed in on me.

“Everything okay back there?” Walker returns.

“I need to take Villanueva back to the cellblock for a minute. She, um—it appears she needs to change her uniform,” Andrés explains.

“Oh shit, she got her period.”

“Damn, that fucking blows.”

“Good thing it’s laundry day, Birdy.”

Those are some of the comments that pop up after Andrés’ expert-level lie. I’m impressed honestly, mentally chuckling as Walker shushes the girls and nods in understanding. Guess he’s not all good boy, huh?

“You know the way by now, right? Just bring her down once she’s gotten it sorted.”

“Yes, sir.” Andrés tips his head dutifully. “C’mon, Villanueva, let's make this quick.” His warm hand curls around my arm like the day he was escorting me to Judge’s office.

Now it’s me who’s trying not to laugh, biting my tongue as we start back the way we came. I peer up at him through my peripheral, noting the hard lines of his handsome face as he holds his chin high, authoritatively. Personally, I think it’s the cutest thing when he calls me Villanueva. He’s so caught up in his role, the big, bad CO booming his commands at the sad little inmate.

It’s kinda hot, too. All I’m saying is I wouldn’t mind him cuffing me while he has his way.

“So, my period?” I quip once we’re out of earshot and rounding the corner. “That’s a good one. Wanna tell me where we’re going, though?”

“I don’t need to. We’re already here.”

Next thing I know, we’re stopping at the most random door. It’s old in comparison to all the other upgrades of the prison. I’ve seen it before; I just don’t know what’s behind it. Andrés surprises me all the more by swiftly pulling out his keys. And I don’t mean the card kind, either—I mean actual keys.

How the hell did he get a key? Why?

---