Page 72 of Save Your Breath

Catfish

Mia

“I feel absolutely ridiculous.”

I didn’t have to be able to see his face to know Aleks was smirking under that stupid mask he wore.

“You look ridiculous, too,” he said, in no attempt to make me feel any better about the situation. “But has anyone noticed you?”

I looked around at the bar that was filling up more and more as the evening progressed, genuinely shocked that no one had recognized me and caused a riot yet.

Then again, I wasn’t sure how theywouldrecognize me when I was dressed like a maniac.

“We look like a couple out ofThe Purge,” I said.

“Oh, we’ll definitely be the source of some nightmares tonight.”

“How and why do you even have these things?” I plucked at the oversized yellow eyeball on his green fish head mask, which he’d paired with a lightweight black hoodie and white shorts. All of his most notable tattoos were covered right along with his face, which just made him look like some big muscley dude in a mask.

As for me, I was still in my biker shorts and oversized t-shirt withThe Night Gameon it — one of my favorite bands.

Oh.

I was also wearing a cat head mask.

It was gray and white striped with a pink nose and outrageous whiskers. It was also rubber and hot as hell, but I’d pay the price of sweat if it meant not getting mauled in this bar that was quickly becoming packed.

The only person who had seen my face was the bouncer checking IDs at the door. I’d been shaking when I handed mine over, worried he’d recognize my name even if it was my legal one and not the pop star one. But he was an older gentleman with absolutely zero care in the world for anything past my birthday and the fact that my face matched the picture, apparently.

He’d slapped the bright pink wristband on me that said I was over twenty-one without so much as a second glance.

Aleks had ordered us a cab from Tampa to downtown St. Pete, our masks already in place as we climbed inside to a driver who didn’t so much as blink at our appearance — just asked where we wanted to go. Aleks assured me he’d likely seen crazier during Gasparilla, the pirate-themed parade that happened every January in Tampa.

I’d been so scared we were going to get run over by a crowd when the cab dropped us at the bar, especially since I’d insisted to my security team that they didn’t need to be with us when Aleks and I took off. I told them not to worry, that we would be fine.

Even if I hadn’t fully believed that.

Of course, James and Hunter didn’t care if I thought we’d be okay, they weren’t going to leave me completely alone. They gave us space, tailing us in an unmarked car, and now they were blending in with the crowd, but keeping an eye on me and Aleks.

But other than some people laughing and pointing at us or high-fiving us when we walked by them… nothing happened.

No one recognized us, and now, I was sitting at a high-top table for two with my childhood best friend as if we weren’t famous.

“What can I say? I’m into kinky shit,” Aleks answered.

I scoffed. “Seriously. Why the hell do you have these?”

“They’re from my rookie party in Seattle. It was a little hazing ritual. They made us wear these masks when we went out and we were tested to see if we could still land a girl to come home with us by the end of the night.”

I flattened my lips. “Charming.”

“You asked,” he said on a shrug. “The fish head was mine. The cat belonged to my roommate at the time, and when we moved out, he was going to throw his away. I told him I’d take it. I didn’t want to part with the memory.”

“How very sentimental of you.”

“Why don’t you go get a drink?”

I looked at the crowded bar with a bit of panic. “What if they recognize my voice?”