The four of us stare at each other. The room is silent save for the slight murmur of the TV from whatever show Jackson was watching.
I stand up and start to make my way to Stevie, cautiously. She’s like a panther on the loose, lazily prowling, and I’m a hunter, trying not to scare her off.
“Are you feeling okay?”
She just shrugs again.
“Since we’re all fully stuck in this situation, I suppose we should reintroduce ourselves.” Jackson pushes off the couch and strolls over, sticking his hand out for her. “Jackson Lau, also known as Shield3d, the green mask of The System. I’m a Sagittarius, I enjoy working out, and I would do anything for my younger siblings.”
His hand rests in the air for a few seconds after he finishes, long enough that I begin to doubt she is going to shake it. Just when I see Jackson twitch, Stevie’s hand glides forward and gives him a small shake.
She’s still silent. Watching.
Parker jogs over. He has too much energy for someone who was just on the chopping block. But then again, that’s Parker for you.
“Parker Covington, also beloved by the name EnglishCoffee. Acclaimed speedrunner, British billionaire, and vehicle enthusiast. I hate coffee, but I love champagne.”
Stevie’s mask starts to slip, the corner of her mouth twitching up. I feel a pang of jealousy toward my best friend. When she puts her hand in his, he bends down and drops a kiss on it. “Enchanté, mademoiselle.”
Her mask fully drops then, a snort tumbling out of her.
“You’re a loser, Parker.”
“A rich and attractive loser,” he winks.
I take a small step forward, and her eyes whip to mine. The laughter fading.
My throat is dry, but I power forward, putting my hand out to her.
“Aleksander Knight, also known as NightBlade32.” I scratch the back of my neck, stalling. “I like gaming, bikes, and anything chocolate. I hate events, and I hate that I made you hate me.”
She drops my gaze, but I keep my hand straight. I’ll keep my hand hovering here for as long as it takes. Hell, I’ll drop to my knees if I need to.
Stevie slips off the stool, gold material pooling around her feet. Her lithe hand caresses mine.
“Stephanie Andwell.” She looks into my eyes, burning into my soul. “I love art, action movies, and anything maple-syrup flavored. I hate pink roses and that I’m still trapped in this dress, but I don’t hate you.”
My body relaxes, hope blooming.
“Want to change into one of my shirts?”
She eyes me warily for a second, nibbling on her lower lip. My heart pauses as it waits.
“Sure.”
One word, and my heart starts beating again. She hasn’t released my hand, so I hold it tighter, bringing her to my room. I rifle through my closet, grabbing an old gaming tournament T-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts she can tie up. She takes them from me, tossing them on my bed. Then, she turns her back to me, swiping her hair to the side, revealing a smooth triangle of skin.
I watch as she reaches up and unzips the top of her dress, the gold fabric splitting away, revealing her tan back in tantalizing segments. I’m mesmerized by her movements.
She reaches the base of her back, then shrugs each of her arms out of the dress. The fabric collects at her waist, and I stare at her state of undress, my cock twitching.
She leans forward, tugging at the fabric on her hips, shimmying out of it. Once it’s over her hips, her ass sits on display for me. She’s leaning far enough forward that I can see the outline of her pussy. Fuck, she’s not wearing any underwear.
I move forward as she proceeds to drop the dress to the ground, the shimmering fabric reflecting the LED lights in my room.
I run a finger over her hip, and she swats it away, half turning her body to me.
“I don’t hate you, but I’m still mad at you.”
“I know.”
She holds up the T-shirt and shorts, assessing them briefly before tossing them back on the bed. Instead, she shoulders past me, one of her breasts grazing my arm. She walks, completely naked, to my closet and rummages through it herself. My length thickens at the sight, want needling under my skin. I have to readjust myself for some relief.
She pulls out a large The System T-shirt and shrugs it over her head. It reaches her mid thigh, the sleeves hitting her elbows. She looks at herself in my mirror and smiles, satisfied. Then she moseys back to my bed, lifting the covers and crawling inside.
I move to sit on the edge of the bed, and it dips below my weight.
“I couldn’t tell you, Stevie.”
“I know.”
She brings her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them.
“I know, and that makes it more frustrating. Because I can’t really be mad at you for not telling me. We’re not even officially dating; why would you have told me this secret. A secret that virtually no one knows. One people would pay for. One, it seems, Sydney would murder to keep.”
I keep silent, not interrupting. I let her talk it through, feel out her emotions.
“But I still feel lied to, and I’m still hurt. I feel like I was tricked, like I was played with. I was vulnerable with you in two different ways. I was falling for one guy while lusting over another, telling myself to not feel guilty over it, only to learn they’re one and the same.” Her brows scrunch then. “Actually, I suppose that is kind of a win-win situation.”
She shoves her forehead against her knees and lets out a long, loud groan.
“Why does this have to be so goddamn confusing?”
She stays like that for a minute before I scoot forward and rub my hand up and down her back. I still don’t say anything, letting her soak it all in. Giving her what little comfort I can without words.
I want to say everything. I want to tell her it was all real. Everything she experienced with Aleks, everything with Blade, they were both me. That I came this close to bringing her back here the night at the club, saying fuck it all, just like Parker did. To showing her the truth because I wanted to let her in.
Because in the short period of time that I’ve known her, she has completely crushed my world and rebuilt it around herself. My universe doesn’t revolve around the sun, it revolves around Stevie. Seeing her smile is like the stars lighting up the night sky. She’s the moon and I’m the tide; she pulls me in when she’s near, and when she’s away, I crave her touch.
She lifts her head, the mascara around her caramel eyes smudged.
“What happens now, Blade?”
“Now, you decide how we move on, little dove.”
Her brows pinch together. I grab her hands, pulling them away from her knees, holding them in my own.
“You swept into my life one night and disappeared without a trace. Everywhere I went, I searched for your face. For the chance that the fates would cause our paths to cross again. It drove me nuts, Stevie. And then it happened: I found you again, and again, and again.” I squeeze her hands. “Whether it was Blade or Aleksander, it was me. It was real, every text, every touch, every kiss, everything.”