"He was calm, but I could tell he was freaked," Billie said, leaning back on the couch as she recounted the previous night's events to her friends. Her legs were draped over the armrest while Shark snored softly at her feet.

"Well, at least he didn't put you on house arrest," Zoe said, flipping through a magazine she wasn't really reading.

"Honestly, he could've," Billie replied, a little sheepishly. "I kind of deserved it."

"Balaclava Daddy is chill," Quen declared with a knowing smirk, tossing a card onto the pile in the middle of their game. "Dessa, you got some fives?"

"Go fish," Odessa said with a shrug, barely looking up from her phone.

The room fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the kind that only close friends could pull off. Billie picked at a loose thread on her hoodie, her mind wandering back to Cedric. Despite everything, he was calm under pressure—too calm, almost. She couldn't shake the memory of his sharp green eyes drilling into her as he lectured her in the car.

"Have you even seen his face?" Odessa asked suddenly, snapping Billie out of her thoughts.

"What?" Billie asked, blinking.

"Cedric," Odessa clarified, finally looking up from her phone. "Have you seen his face?"

"No," Billie admitted, a little defensively. "He's always wearing that stupid balaclava."

"See, that's wild," Quen said, dealing another card to Zoe. "He could be, like, super ugly, and you'd never know."

"He's not ugly," Billie said quickly, then hesitated. "I mean, I don't know that, but... he doesn't give ugly vibes."

"Ugly vibes?" Ava chimed in, raising an eyebrow. "What does that even mean?"

"You know," Billie said, gesturing vaguely. "Like, the way someone carries themselves. Cedric's too put-together to be ugly."

"Or maybe he wears the mask because he's ugly," Odessa teased, grinning.

"Y'all are wild," Billie muttered, shaking her head.

Quen leaned forward, resting her elbows on the coffee table. "So you've never been curious? Not even a little?"

"Of course I've been curious," Billie admitted. "But it's not like I can just walk up to him and say, 'Hey, take off your mask.'"

"Why not?" Zoe asked, flipping her magazine closed. "It's your house. You're the boss, right?"

"It's not that simple," Billie said, frowning. "Cedric's... different. He's got this whole 'I'm here to do my job, not make friends' vibe. If I asked him something like that, he'd probably just stare at me until I backed down."

"Sounds intense," Ava said, her tone thoughtful.

"He is intense," Billie said, sighing. "But he's also good at what he does. I feel... safe with him, you know?"

The room went quiet again, her friends exchanging glances.

"Wow," Quen said, breaking the silence. "You're really down bad for this dude, huh?"

"What? No!" Billie said quickly, sitting up. "It's not like that."

"Uh-huh," Quen said, clearly unconvinced.

"Stop," Billie groaned, throwing a pillow at her.

Later that evening, after her friends had left and the house had quieted down, Billie found herself in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge. Shark padded in behind her, tail wagging as he sniffed the air hopefully.

"You're not getting any of this," she told the dog, grabbing a container of leftover pasta.

She was halfway through microwaving it when she heard the faint sound of the front door opening. Cedric's footsteps were distinct—calm, measured, always deliberate.

"Evening," he said as he entered the kitchen, his deep voice filling the room.

"Hey," Billie replied, glancing over her shoulder.

Cedric was, as always, a towering presence in the room. His balaclava was firmly in place, his green eyes scanning the area briefly before settling on her.

"How was your day?" he asked, his tone polite but professional.

"Good," Billie said, turning back to her pasta. "Hung out with some friends."

Cedric nodded, leaning against the doorway. He didn't say anything else, but Billie could feel his eyes on her, as if he were waiting for something.

She sighed, turning to face him fully. "Okay, out with it. What's on your mind?"

"You left the house without telling me," Cedric said, his tone even but firm.

"That was yesterday," Billie said, rolling her eyes. "I already apologized for that."

"I know," Cedric said. "But I need to be sure it won't happen again."

"It won't," Billie said, crossing her arms. "I promise."

Cedric studied her for a moment, his gaze unreadable. "Good."

They stood there in silence, the hum of the microwave filling the room.

"Do you ever take that thing off?" Billie asked suddenly, gesturing toward his balaclava.

Cedric tilted his head slightly. "What thing?"

"You know what thing," she said, smirking. "The mask. Do you sleep in it or something?"

"No," Cedric said, his tone deadpan.

"So why wear it all the time?" Billie pressed. "You're in my house. It's not like anyone's going to recognize you here."

Cedric didn't answer right away. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than before. "It's part of the job."

"Yeah, but it's weird," Billie said, leaning against the counter. "You don't think it's weird?"

Cedric's eyes narrowed slightly, though not in anger. "Do you think I'm hiding something?"

"I don't know," Billie said with a shrug. "Are you?"

Cedric didn't reply, but the faintest flicker of amusement passed through his eyes.

"Come on," Billie said, grinning. "Just for a second. Let me see."

Cedric shook his head, his voice firm. "Not happening."

"Why not?" she asked, pouting a little.

"Because it's not relevant to my job," he said simply.

"Okay, but I'm the job," Billie pointed out. "And I'm curious. Doesn't that count for something?"

Cedric gave her a long, measured look. "Go eat your pasta," he said finally, his tone light but dismissive.

Billie groaned, throwing her hands in the air. "You're impossible."

Cedric didn't respond, but she thought she saw the faintest hint of a smile beneath the edge of his mask as he turned and walked away.

Later that night, Billie found herself restless.

She was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts racing. The conversation with Cedric kept replaying in her head, her curiosity growing by the minute.

What was he hiding under that mask?

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She got out of bed, grabbing her phone and slipping quietly into the hallway.

The house was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of a lamp in the living room. Billie padded down the stairs, half-expecting to find Cedric asleep on the couch.

But he wasn't there.

Frowning, she moved toward the kitchen, where she saw a faint light spilling out into the hallway.

Peeking around the corner, she found Cedric sitting at the dining table, his back to her. His mask was off, lying on the table beside him.

Billie froze, her breath catching in her throat.

She could only see the back of his head, buzzed short hair she'd always wondered about. Part of her wanted to sneak closer, to catch a glimpse of his face. But another part of her felt guilty, like she was intruding on something private.

Before she could decide what to do, Cedric spoke.

"You should be asleep," he said without turning around.

Billie jumped, her heart racing. "I—I was just getting water," she stammered.

Cedric turned slightly, just enough for her to catch a glimpse of his side profile. His sharp jawline and high cheekbones were striking, even in the dim light.

"Water's in the fridge," he said, his tone neutral.

"Right," Billie said, moving quickly to grab a bottle before retreating.

As she headed back upstairs, her mind was spinning. She hadn't seen much, but what little she'd glimpsed only made her more curious.

One thing was for sure: Cedric Pierre wasn't hiding because he was ugly. Far from it.

And that realization was going to make it even harder to sleep.