Page 31 of Pretty Little Tease


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How in the world could he know that? But if it’s not a big deal and he’s okay with it, then I’m fine. Everything’s fine, since he doesn’t seem to be mad, and I can get back to being—

“Or would you rather me call youmaskenvy?”

Chapter 12

My heart nearly stops, and it feels like every beat of it is forced and unnatural. Time slows as I look up at him, my foggy brain trying to work through what he’s just said. First of all, he knows I’mfinalistgirl.That’s bad enough, but not really terrible in the grand scheme of things. It could be cute, actually, if we were in some rom-com situation and about to fall in love on screen. No, that isn’t the problem here.

The problem is that he knows I’m a streamer. He knows that I’mmaskenvyand that means—

“You watch me stream?” I breathe, sure my face is as red as it has ever been. “How do you know it’s me?”

“I do,” he admits readily, and reaches out to stroke a finger over the ink on my arm. “No offense, Blair. But these are incredibly unique. There was no way I wouldn’t know it’s you. And you’re so fucking adorable, wonder girl. How could I not watch?”

He’s seen me naked.

Oliver, who has been sitting beside me in class for three weeks acting like he’s auditioning for the position of ride-or-die best friend, has seen menaked. Of course, I’ve seen him naked too, but that isn’t the point.

I bury my face in my hands, still able to hear his huffed chuckle over my groan. “You’ve seen me naked,” I lament. “You’ve literally seen me at my worst and I’ve only known you for three weeks. God, I’m such a loser.”

“At your worst?” Genuine confusion flits through his tone. “Uh, Blair, you’re gorgeous. Do I need to repeat that? And you’re good at what you do. Not to mention, you’ve seen me naked, too. Though I’ve noticed you don’t watch me anymore…” His voice turns teasing as he leans in close and tugs me against him so he can whisper in my ear. “Is it because you’re being polite? Preserving my modesty out of some weird sense of chivalry?”

“It felt rude,” I admit, face still burning scarlet. “You’re my friend, and you didn’t know. Well, I thought you didn’t know. I just thought we were crossing the line offriendship,quite frankly.”

“That’s nice of you. You’re much more considerate than me, since I make sure to watch your streams every fucking time.” He pauses thoughtfully, then adds, “I can’t believe you thought I’d be upset that you watch my streams. But I’m curious how you found out.” His hand loops around my shoulders again, urging my face out of my hands and closer to his.

“Your photography book,” I admit. “It’s pretty unique, Oliver. It fell in front of your camera the day before you called me asking if I had it.” Enlightenment lights up his eyes before fading back into interest. “Then I realized I knew your voice, and the rest is obvious. Anyway, I guess I should apologize, since I kind of copied your mask-thing.”

“Don’t apologize,” he dismisses, shaking his head. “Who cares if you stole it? I don’townmasks. What I’d rather know is…” He leans so close that our lips brush before asking, “Did you learn anything from me? Take any notes while you watched me get off? I would’ve put on a better show if I knew it was you the first time. I only found out once I started watching you, and thenyou never came back.” He kisses me lightly, blowing all of my potential responses out of my brain.

Finally, when he pulls away, I ask, “How did you know I’mfinalistgirltoo?” He never heard my voice or spoke one-on-one to me, exactly. There’s no way for him to—

He taps my nose almost like a sweet reprimand and says, “Because, wonder girl, you used the same site email for both accounts.”

“Youlooked?” I ask, brows shooting upward. “Why would you ever think to look?”

He doesn’t answer. His eyes dance as I watch him, and he just fuckingstaresat me. “Have you ever said anything in my stream? Do you just watch, or—?”

A laugh pulls from Oliver’s throat as he looks at me, a little incredulous, like I’m missing something obvious. “Do I justwatch? Come on, Blair.Come on.” His words are teasing, goading. Like he enjoys seeing my face stained red in embarrassment. But who in the world would be into something like that in a situation like this?

Am I missing something?

“Not only am I your second highest tipper…”

Oh God.

“Unless you lied to me, I’m now very aware of the things you’re into.”

Oh, fuck.

I don’t know what to say. Part of me wants to say it’s not me, that he has the wrong blonde, masked streamer with a snake and flowers tattooed on her arm. Part of me wants to say I was lying to make him more into me. To make him tip more.

But those would be lies, and I don’t want to lie to Oliver.

“Oops,” I say finally, still watching his face. “This feels… really awkward now.”

“Why?” His question feels genuine, and his face melts into a perplexed expression.

“That’s kind of embarrassing. I’ve known you for three weeks. As a friend.” I kind of wish he would’ve told me before this that he knew.

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