I watch her damn door on the building’s security camera.
I watch the scowl on her face every morning when she’s begrudgingly running on the treadmill.
I’m a stalker.
Not even kind of a stalker.
I’m a full-fledged snake.
It doesn’t sit well with me at all, but it also doesn’t stop me from opening all my programs the second I sit in my desk chair. I’m like an addict waiting for the sight of her, but her morning workout is done and since she never leaves her apartment, the most I can hope for today is catching her when she has her dinner delivered.
I show some restraint by not rewinding footage to catch her from earlier, and I even do some quick research on therapists in the area but quickly kick that idea to the curb. Don’t they have to report illegal activity? If I go to jail, I won’t be able to play online with her later.
Since I’m not deep into watching an active video of her, I hear the footsteps approaching my office today, giving me enough time to clear my screens. Several stock market websites are on display when Flynn shoves open my office door, once again without knocking.
“Really?” he scoffs, looking at the screen.
“Just keeping an eye on my investments,” I lie. I probably know too much about stocks and trends, at least enough to land me in federal prison for insider trading.
“It’s Sunday, you prat.”
“Can I help you with something?”
He slow blinks in my direction, and I realize my mistake already. Normally, I’m on my game. I know what I’ve worked on for each guy here and have it at the ready when they enter. Hell, usually I take the research to them when I’m done. Not so much lately, and it’s evident in the way Flynn is looking at me now.
“The report on Heizer,” I say before he can remind me. “I have it right here.”
I hand him the report, but he doesn’t pull his eyes from mine as he takes the folder.
“I completed it a few days ago.” Technically within a couple hours of him giving it to me, another attempt at getting back to my normal life. “Everything checks out.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Things are great.”
I look toward Puff Daddy’s open cage, hoping he’ll spew a couple insults to change the tone the room has taken, but that turncoat is passed out from the stuffing Nana gave him earlier.
“I’m here if you need anything.” He continues to watch me, his eyes darting between mine.
This is an opening, right? He’s literally asking me to lay my problems at his feet.
“I have a crush on a woman.”
“A crush?” He runs his hand over the top of his head, his top lip twitching slightly in the corner. “Sounds a little juvenile. Is this person online or did you finally get away from your computer long enough to run into a normal woman?”
“Women online are normal,” I defend. “Mostly.”
“So online then?”
I nod. I could get angry for his roundabout insults, but I’m desperate here.
“I’m not an expert on women,” he adds. “But I imagine an online interest would be easier. You can take your shot and if it doesn’t work out, you can just move on.”
He shrugs with the simplicity of his plan.
Has he lost his damn mind?
“Just move on,” I confirm.
“Yep.”
I don’t want to move on from her. I’ve never felt such a connection before. At first, of course, it was purely physical. She has the look I love, amazing tits, and even her scowl when she’s unhappy gets me thinking dirty thoughts.
After playing with her online, hearing her voice, discovering how funny she is?
It would be impossible to just walk away.
“Good chat,” I tell him and turn back to my computer screens.
He chuckles as he leaves, and the sound grates on every last damn nerve.
There is no way to move on. That just means when I do take my shot, I have to make sure it’s an offer she can’t refuse.
And honestly, at this point, I’m not completely opposed to kidnapping. I mean, what’s one more felony?
Chapter 6
Whitney
Slow blinking didn’t make the message disappear. Neither did rapid blinking.
Nope.
It’s still there.
W45PN357: Meet me for coffee?
We’ve been playing Orc’s Realm nightly for over a week, but it’s too soon, right?
When we discovered yesterday that we lived in the same city, it should’ve skeeved me out, but at the time I felt a little zing of excitement. We clicked. This guy is hilarious, and his voice over the mic is like melted butter.
Granted, I’m certain he’s like most of the guys who play online, living with his mother, drinking energy drinks to stay alive, and bathes so infrequently each shower is like a brand-new experience, but the idea of him being normal is nice.
RachelNRoss4Eva: No.
See? That was easy.
“Did I freak you out?” he asks through the mic.
Less than it should’ve, I think.
But I don’t say it. What I do find weird is that our mics are open, but he made his request via the chat box instead of the words coming out of his mouth.
Is he actually shy? That’s a possibility, but since my character flaws tend to lean in the direction of pessimism, I also wonder if he’s tracking our chats for some nefarious reason.
He could’ve easily asked his question. Not that the answer would’ve changed. It would still be a hard no. I don’t meet people. I don’t leave the building unless it’s absolutely necessary. I’m not exactly a hermit, but why put extra strain on myself when there are so many conveniences in today’s age?
Groceries delivered? Check.
Taco Bell delivered? Check.
Medications delivered? Check.
Everything I could ever want is dropped right off at my door. Hell, I don’t even have a car because everything is brought directly to me. If I can’t have it delivered immediately, then Amazon is my best friend. They literally have everything.
Meeting a guy I met online a week ago? I don’t
