When he saw me in his clothes, I thought that was it. The bad idea would end in bliss and regrets and…that would be that. I began determining not to beat myself up about it when everything fell apart. I began bargaining, suggesting thatmaybethis time it could be different, and he could take everything and still want more for a long while yet.
The thing is, he didn’t take. He gave. He gave so much, and now I’m considering that things could still be different…and he may still want me for a long while yet—even if I never give anything at all.
Maybe I’m being an idiot. Again. And I just won’t realize it until after.
But maybe I’m willing, now, to take that chance.
Forcing down a deep breath, I stare at Kyran’s gaming room door, glance at theDo Not Disturbsign, feel the weight of the notification on the phone in my pocket indicating that he’s streamingright now, and grip the plate I’m holding.
It’s not even aClarasandwich. It’s just something stupid I threw together myself because when he had to stop bugging me today and get ready for his stream, the voices in my head screamed in protest.
It’s stupid.
It’swrong.
It’s a test.
I just want to see what he’ll do if I call his bluff from weeks ago when he said he’d tell the whole world I’m hisgirlfriendif I barged in on him while he was working.
In front of coworkers he respects and followers he wants to make happy, will he still openly love me?
Or will he be upset that I’ve sprung something like this on him without warning?
A huge breath leaves my chest, and I hate myself.
I’m like a toddler, pressing on the rules, desperate to see if Mommy and Daddy will still love me even if I’m bad.
I’m immature. I always have been. I’ve always…always felt like three opossums in a trenchcoat, pretending to not only be an adult but also…a person.
Andwhydo I need to be thinking about Talira right now of all things?
Why?
Gritting my teeth, I forget that I’m about to barge in on thousands while lookingpeeved, and…I barge in on thousands, while looking peeved.
Kyran jumps, tossing his attention toward me. His blue eyes go massive as he looks at what I’m holding, then at my face, which is scrunched up with irritation. “Mis…” He cuts a lookat his set up. Three monitors. Cameras. A chat stream flying by next to his running OBS Studio. I know I’m off camera. I’ve watched enough of his streams to know exactly where to stand to stay out of frame. I also know that if I approach but don’t bend down, my head will be cut off. I’ll remain semi-anonymous. And no one but Kyran will see me scowling.
I take a step forward.
“Hey, sorry, guys. Give me a second.” Kyran moves one headphone muff off his ear and…mutes. Delight dances in his expression. “Mistress? You…brought me a sandwich?”
“Imade it,” I inform him, to relay expectation. “I did use Clara bread, though.”
A smile melts over him, and something inside merevolts.
Stomping up, I cover his camera with my hand. “What do you think you’re doing?” I hiss.
Still smiling, he says, “Couldn’t I ask you the same thing?”
No, he maynot. I grit, “You’re not following the script.”
“Script?”
Well ifhedoesn’t remember the script,I’mnot going to tell him. I glare at him, hating how much I want to—
“If you don’t uncover my camera, Enigma’s not going to stop screaming in my ear that I’m up to indecent things. Unless…of course…you’d like to actually be up to indecent things?”
Heart rate pounding in my skull, I cut a look at the ballistic chat, full of hearts and question marks and about seven thousand clips of Kyran’s smile. My stomach hurts. I mutter, “Take your stupid sandwich.”
