Page 46 of Texting My Secret CEO
“Anyway, Idolike it when he tells me what to do. In certain contexts.”
Mara fans herself with a coaster. “Take it easy, Dakky.”
I laugh, but the humor fades quickly. “My real worry is getting sucked in.”
“Explain, hon.”
“He’s got this whole gravitational pull thing going on. When we’re talking, even in the game, even just texting, it’s like I can forget about everything. That’s the danger. I get close, too close. Then it’s too late. He has me. Hook, line, sinker. Maybe that’s when I find out he has another girlfriend, or he drops the bombshell that we can never, ever be public.”
“Is that what you want?” Mara asks. “To be a public couple? It’s fast.”
“You’re right.” I run my hand through my hair. “We can’t make that decision, not yet.”
“It’s complicated,” Mara mutters.
“What would my viewers think?” I ask. “If they found out I did what I did with him in that office. You know what the guys online are like anyway. Half of them are creeps, and the other half see me as some virgin angel.”
“Aslightexaggeration,” Mara says. “But I get your point.”
“Okay, fine. Maybe it’s more like, half are normal, a quarter are creeps, and a quarter idolize me.”
She nods. “Seems fair.”
“So, I could lose half my audience just for having sex.”
“Now you’re catastrophizing,” she says. “Forget the big picture for now. What do you want?”
“To be able to grow my stream, honor Noah’s memory, and talk with and date a man without the rest of the world getting in the way.”
“Dakota!” Mara exclaims, waving her hands so wildly her pink hair jostles around her. “What did I just say about the big picture?”
“Oh.” I laugh awkwardly. “I want him to text me. Even after everything I’ve just said. Go ahead—call me a hypocrite.”
“I’ll call youhuman. But how can he text you if you told him not to? You have to text him first. Or, like I said, cut your losses, accept you had some fun, and that’s all it’ll ever be, and move on.”
“What would you do?” I ask.
Mara gets that secretive, somehow dangerous glint in her eyes. “You don’t want to know.”
“No—go on. If you had a man you were wildly attracted to. You did… that. And then you had to hide on the floor.”
“Hon, I’d beg him to push my face into the carpet and fuck me silly.”
I laugh so loudly that people turn their heads to glare at us. But I can’t help it. And I don’t care. “You’re so wild sometimes.”
“Hey, you asked.”
That afternoon, since it’s Sunday, I take an evening off streaming. I have a hot bath and then lie on the couch in my bathrobe, my cell phone in my hand, chewing my lip as I stare at the last message I sent to Jack… an entire week ago now. And every second, I’m aching for him like some lovestruck heroine in a Regency melodrama.
Dakota: How’s work been this week?
I type, and then delete.
Dakota: I think I’ve had enough space, handsome.
Delete that too.
Dakota: So…
