Page 5 of Texting My Secret CEO
But, hell, she’shot.
Even in a plain black hoodie, no makeup, she’s beautiful. Her hair frames her focused, stunning face. Wide eyes that take in all the action. Biting her lush lip in a way that triggers a wave of heat inside of me.
My dick twitches in my jeans. Like I’m one of those online weirdos drooling over a woman I’ve never even met.
“Okay,” she snaps, nodding as her health bar fills up.
I blink, then rub my eyes. What the hell just happened?
Then I let out a laugh.
That wasfast. In the space of a second, she dodged two attacks, andmid dodge,she must’ve activated her life steal, bumping her health back up to halfway. She leads the remaining enemies—a mix of deformed sea creatures, ghosts, and zombies—down a narrow corridor she’s clearly built for this purpose.
Her tone turns casual as she takes them out.
“Phew,” she says, rubbing her forehead.
I grin. Widely. Easily. It feels slightly unnatural, like my face isn’t used to the gesture, and honestly, I can’t remember the last time I smiled like this.
I can feel her relief emanating through the screen.
Suddenly, a message pops up.
Mysterious-BOI: I don’t want to be a creep, but you looked so hot when you almost died just then. I know, weird comment!
I grind my teeth together. Who the fuck is this guy? How often does she get comments like these?
It doesn’t matter to me. Obviously. Shouldn’t anyway. But… well, it’s a little goddamn presumptuous. And yeah, fine, I was just thinking the same thing. But I didn’t write it out.
She smiles, but her eyes narrow for a moment. A note of tension I feel certain no one else has noticed.
“Aw, thanks,” she says. “But to be honest, I wasn’t trying to look hot. I was just trying not to die!”
She laughs it off, then starts going through her home and repairing furniture the enemies broke. She casually talks to her viewers as she does so, responding to queries. I find myself leaning closer. Getting sucked into the stream.
“Fair point,” she murmurs. “But I’m not sure that would be a good idea, really. Think about it. We already work with other players during bosses and dungeons. These enemy raids are supposed to be us, on our own, protecting our player-built houses. If they let us invite other players, it might ruin that. I don’t know?”
The addedI don’t knowas if she’s not sure bothers me more than it should. Sheissure, but she added that to placate themen in her audience. So, she doesn’t come across as a know-it-all woman.
“You don’t have to do that,” I murmur under my breath.
I spend twenty minutes just watching her navigate the game I built. Flying her giant eagle to the city center, selling the troll skins she harvested from the raid monsters, then heading toward the mage’s quarters, where the teleportation portals are.
“See, guys?” she says, eyes bright and vivacious, smile magnetic. “No one is going to the Cove! Just look.”
I clench my jaw. She’s right. As she stands there, the Cove portal remains untouched. Ignored. All that hard work…
“So,” she goes on. “For all you people claiming that I’m being a sour puss,here’syour proof. Jackson Cross, it’s time to fix this!”
Pop.
The tennis ball explodes.
I didn’t even realize it was in my hand.
I log in to my account on the website. Donate two hundred dollars to her stream with a message.
TheRealCreator: No offense, but you’re wrong about the Cove. Message me back if you want more information.
