Page 6 of Hide and Keep

“Are you ready to come out yet?” he eventually says.

Releasing a private smirk, I shake my head, the edges of my mask snagging on his shirt.

“Can I come to you?”

That makes my smile grow and I nod. It’s not just that he asked for permission, it’s that he askedmefor permission.

Slowly, like he doesn’t want to scare me, he pivots around to face me. To look up at him, I have to crane my neck back.

“Why’d you come tonight if you don’t want to be kept?”

Unable to answer, at least not verbally, I shrug a shoulder.

He lets out a husky chuckle. “Okay…” His attention shifts from my face to the raised shoulder, then down my arm. Lifting my hand with his out to the side, he murmurs, “Butterfly.”

Maybe because I do feel safe with him and because he asked me for permission and because I’m not me, not tonight, I thread my fingers through his and pull.

His gaze snaps to mine.

“Um…” Shaking his head, he swallows and glances around us, but my hold on him tightens, bringing his attention back to me. “This is…uh… You don’t…”

One small step toward him and our bodies are flush against each other. My skyward chin doesn’t even graze his, so I push up on my tiptoes.

“Butterfly…” His voice sounds strained, like he’s in pain. “You’re…” He gestures at me. “And I’m…not.”

Not? That’s exactly why I’m drawn to him.Becausehe’s not. He’s not like anyone else I’ve ever encountered. He’s not askingme about my father. He’s not looking at me howeverybodyalways fucking looks at me.

I go to pull his mask down, but his free hand catches my wrist, stopping me.

“It’s not…” Again, he shakes his head. “Worth it.”

What isn’t worth it?

One hard tug and the mask comes down—his, not mine.

At first, I maintain eye contact, but when his drop, mine follow. Except while he’s staring at the ground, I’m studying his face. His stunning, unique face. Stunning because he has light eyes, full lips, a razor-sharp jawline, and just enough hair on his chin to qualify as a goatee. Unique because of the half-moon scar under his left eye, which I’m assuming is what he didn’t want me to see, what “isn’t worth it.”

It does nothing to detract from how hot he is. If anything, it makes him hotter.

But obviously he doesn’t feel that way.

He’s not as confident as I thought. He might not be confident at all.

If I could speak, I’d squash any insecurities he has by telling him how beautiful he is, how much of a disruptor he is to the current stale beauty ideals. Goddess, if I were scrolling through fifty selfies, his is the only one that’d stop my thumb from swiping. I wouldn’t just pause either. I’d zoom. I’d take a screenshot. I’d keep him, and not just for one night.

Palm to his cheek, I run my thumb over the groove, a gentle smile playing on my lips to show him it doesn’t bother me. Ilikeit.

He tries to shake me off, saying, “Butterfly—”

But I hold firm, molding my hand to his face and pulling him down a few more inches until his lips touch mine. Thanks to the mask, they’re not the slightest bit cold. They part instantly,letting my tongue right in and giving me the freedom to do as I please. The way nobody ever has.

The way nobody ever will.

I kiss him with all the conviction I wish I could voice, all the affirmations I can think of.

You are worthy.

You are attractive inside and out.

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