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I looked too much like my goddamn father, and that Netflix documentary had just come out about him.
It allowed me to work from home, with flexible hours, leaving enough time to pursue other hobbies. Like making thirst traps for all the other mask enthusiasts out there.
Just to be a hundred percent certain, I logged into my computer and hacked her account,
Just in case I’d missed something, I wore a balaclava to hide my face.
They were my people, and I barely thought of others. But was that because of a personality disorder or because they were the only ones who had earned my trust?
I slept with a baseball bat beside my bed and mace and throwing knives on my nightstand within easy reach. Two days a week, I took a hand-to-hand combat course taught by an ex-marine who didn’t go easy on me because I was the only woman in his class.
Okay, so I didn’t want to hurt her, but I did want to scare her.
Aly was fucked up too. Hallelujah.
Before I could stop myself, I sent her a kissy-face emoji.
“I hope you’re enjoying yourself, you son of a bitch,” she snarled. Immensely, I responded, adding a smiley face emoji for good measure. “I am going to find you, and I am going to make you regret this.” Sounds kinky.
Listen, you, UGH, I don’t even know what to call you! How about boo? he wrote back. You know, because of the – this was followed by three little ghost emojis meant to represent his mask.
Without warning, they turned, and I jumped back, hitting the car behind me. The Faceless Man stared out of my window.
I thought I’d give you a ride home. The weather is shit, and you must be exhausted. It’s not safe for you to drive right now.
I wanted a man so obsessed that he hacked into cameras to watch me when he couldn't sleep. I wanted him to monitor my location data, order me a home security system so no one else could break into my house, and threaten to murder anyone who hurt me.
I wanted someone with a soul as black as night. Someone who would burn the world down for me and not lose a single minute of sleep over it.
I can see fine. And do you really want to ruin the fantasy?
I glanced over and saw Aly helping herself to the apple slices with one hand, the other still pointing the gun in my direction.
I hefted my phone and typed, You just want to get another look at my jaw.
I’d downloaded her user data off the app, and she’d spent a staggering 200 hours staring at me.
She might be mad at me, but her lizard brain was probably triggered by being so close to someone she’d pleasured herself to.
Awww. Our first official fight. I was absolutely going to mark this in my calendar so a year from now, we could celebrate the day she acknowledged there was something between us.
No plastic surgeon. I’ll wear your mark like the badge of pride it is. To drive his point home, he made a fist, placed it over his heart, and bowed to me like someone from a Tolkien movie.
What I felt was closer to FOMO – the fear of missing out – than self-aggrandization.
The thing was, someone had already shoveled me out. My front steps and walk were clear, my car had been brushed off, and my driveway was spotless.
Have you ever heard of the word boundaries? I texted the Faceless Man. Doesn’t sound familiar, he wrote back. Can you use it in a sentence?
I like taking care of you.
I felt both elated and slightly betrayed. Well, this was a weird feeling. I was jealous of myself. Why?
Mwah ha ha ha ha. My evil plan was working. Step one: get Aly to drop her guard. Step two: fuck her on this couch. Oh, wait, no. I’d skipped a few steps somewhere.
“Nooo. Don’t flush us, Josh. We’re aliiive.”
And when he smiled and those dimples appeared? It triggered ovulation. You couldn’t convince me otherwise. Not after the way I stood there staring at him while my ovaries donned their warpaint and started metaphorically chucking eggs at the man.
If Josh were the Faceless Man, that meant I might get kinky sex, witty banter, easy conversation, and even a new gym buddy all in one. Uh, yes, please?