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That wasn’t supposed to happen.

I had a mental list a thousand lines long of reasons that exact thing was not supposed to happen. Again.

The worst part was, now that I knew exactly what I was missing, I wasn’t sure something as flimsy as professional suicide was going to be enough to keep my distance.

Not when I knew what he looked like under his clothes, how he sounded when he was turned on, the intense way he watched me, the sexy smirk when he knew what he was doing to me.

This is not a story that gets a happily ever after.

Even that wasn’t holding the same weight it had. Because who said it had to? Why couldn’t I just enjoy wanting and being wanted in return?

Even if I knew that the likelihood of my being able to let things progress with Silas and not catch feelings was slim to none.

“Finally!” Mr. Lane said when I approached, even if I was still hours ahead of his deadline.

“Here it is.” I fished the folder out and passed it to him.

“Good. Good. Now we just have to track down Madison, so we can get her to do the con. I need you to place another merch order for the event. And prepare yourself for the event.”

“Me?”

“Yes, of course. I will need you there to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

But if I was there in my job capacity, how could I possibly call in as Madison?

Sneak off to some random employee-only area?

“I can do that,” I agreed.

“Good. Good. Let’s hope Madison calls in tonight, so we can get in touch with her.”

Well, now ‘she’ had to.

After I bought a cheap burner phone.

I spent the rest of the afternoon at the printer, the electronics store, then trying to catch up on the work I’d fallen behind on thanks to all the errands.

All the while, I kept trying to fight it back; the memory of Silas’s touch kept popping up into my mind.

It was part of why I made myself head home before Silas showed up for his show. Because I knew I had to call in while pretending to be someone I wasn’t. Some part of me was worried it was going to be harder to keep pretending now that things had gotten physical between us.

I could try to keep convincing myself that I was doing it for his own good.

But as I sat down at my computer with his show on in the background, for the first time in days, I felt words bubbling up, then pouring out again.

So, no.

I couldn’t claim it was entirely selfless.

Pretending to be Madison was something that was good for both of us… and the station. Besides, if things with Silas had no future (and he’d been pretty clear on that), did it really matter? One little lie?

“So you don’t think it’s crazy?” the caller asked, making me sigh.

“I think it is perfectly rational, if not even recommended, to keep working on your pro and con list for your partner.”

Oh, that’ll do it.

I reached for my burner and hit the only number I had programmed into it.