I pull my mask down and advance on Evie. Her breath quickens, but I don’t think it is entirely out of fear. I walk her back until she’s pressed between me and the wall. “That’s not funny, Mateo,” she breathes. “I don’t think you mind it, buttercup.” I press harder against her, and she bites off a moan. I grin inside the mask. “I think you’re turned on.” “No way,” she argues, pushing at my chest. “That’s just creepy.”
