Page 133 of Secrets and Lies
“Interesting?” I ask, trying to sound casual so he doesn’t think I’m fishing for compliments.
He nods again. “Especially after what happened during the Hunt.”
“Had you ever done anything like that before?” I ask, not sure I want to know the answer.
“No.”
“Were you disappointed when you found out it was me?” I ask, and I want to dive under his coffee table and hide until next year as soon as the words leave my mouth.
“Not even for a second,” he says. “In fact, knowing it was you only made you more interesting.”
“This is so messed up,” I say. “I’ve spent three years thinking about that night and wondering who it was, and it was you this whole time. You’ve known for years, but I had no clue.
“I should be pissed you hid it from me, but I’m not. And I should be pissed that you were sending me those messages and being all flirty and making me question everything about myself while you were also being super chill IRL and helping me through my breakup and being a better friend to me than literally everyone else I know.” I shake my head as the words just keep tumbling out of me. “So you lied to me when you were being my friend, and you lied when you were being Mr. X, and I fuckinghateliars, but I’m not mad about any of it.”
“And what do you want to do about it?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what do you want now that you know the truth?” he repeats.
“Like in life?” I ask stupidly.
He smiles. “I was thinking more like right now, but it’s always good to think of the big picture.”
“I don’t know what I want.”
“Liar.”
“I want to keep being friends,” I say softly, my throat annoyingly tight.
I can’t see Anthony building me up to just shoot me down and reject me, but I’ve never been good at asking for things.
“Tell me what you want,” he says, and the gentle command in it helps undo some of my unease.
“Maybe we can keep doing this”—I wave between us—“until it stops being fun.”
“And the other thing we’ve been doing?” he asks.
I pause. “You mean the Mr. X thing?”
He nods.
“How would that work since I know who you are?”
His grin is full of heat, and I have to resist the urge to squirm in my seat as my dick goes half hard.
“That’s the beauty of masks.” He’s using his sex voice again, and my dick tents my pants as I go from half hard to full mast. “I can be whoever you want me to be.”
“And you want to keep doing it?” I ask, my voice embarrassingly breathy.
“Oh yeah.” He drops his gaze to my dick and the evidence of how much I like that idea. “And so do you.”
“How would it work?” I ask. “The Mr. X part.”
“The same as it did before.” He points to where our phones are sitting on his coffee table. “But there’s one catch.”
“What’s that?”
