Chapter 17
DAKOTA
“Maybe you could just look at it as a fun experience,” Mara murmurs, blowing on her coffee.
We’re at a café we’ve been coming to since we were kids.
It’s the weekend, and this week has been…
more than difficult. I haven’t missed a single stream, but it’s like I’m split down the middle.
Dakky, bright, carefree, and happy. And Dakota, anxiously checking my phone, reliving the intensity of the office, then the awkwardness of kneeling behind that cabinet—the loop refusing to close.
“True,” I agree, taking a sip of coffee. “It’s been almost a week, and he hasn’t texted me.”
“You did say to give you space…”
“True again,” I say with a sigh.
Mara noticed something was up at the barbecue.
Our families hold one once or twice a month during the warmer months.
It’s the sort of thing we never would’ve done when Dad was still in the picture.
Not to mention being home always reminds us of Noah, but that wasn’t why I was so quiet and withdrawn.
Mara saw me checking my phone and knew instantly what was going on.
“But you don’t want to do that,” Mara says, reading me like a book.
“He warned me we had to keep it a secret. He’s got a lot of pressure on his shoulders. Other women might find it fun, exciting, hiding, crawling around.”
“But you don’t,” Mara says. “So don’t worry about what other women would like.”
“It was so… amazing. That doesn’t even do it justice. It was like he already knew my body, every button to press, when to be fierce and when to be gentle. And when we were interrupted, I was… well, let’s just say I wasn’t standing. And let’s just say he was ready, like, right away.”
“He must be really attracted to you,” Mara says.
A familiar tingle dances over me. “It’s not just the physical stuff. I miss knowing he’s watching my streams. I want to go to the Cove with him again. I want him to notice when I’m anxious or angry, even when ten thousand other people are looking right at me and have no idea.”
“Can you forgive him?”
“I already have. Or, no, it’s not really about that. What right do I have to be angry? What else was he supposed to do? And he just said to hide. It isn’t like he snapped at the floor and said, Down, girl.”
“You don’t like being told what to do,” Mara mutters. “You’ve been self-employed since you were twenty. It’s not your fault. But let’s face it, you’ve got a problem with authority. And I get it. Your dad… before you and your mom told him to kick rocks, sorry, he was a tyrant.”
“Sorry?” I scoff, shaking my head. “I agree, Mara. Obviously.”
“Well, he’s still your dad,” she murmurs.
“By blood only. I never want to talk to him again. Noah taught me too much about self-esteem to ever put up with that crap.”
Mara grins, eyes shining. “That kid sure knew how to boost an ego.”
“Yes, he did.”
“Anyway, I do like 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.”
“A slight exaggeration,” 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 you human. 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…
Delete again.
I’m about to type something else when a message pops up from him.
Jack: You’re killing me here, beautiful. I never knew an ellipsis could mean so much.
I smile. It’s just like I said to Mara. The moment he texts me, it’s like a weight is lifted. I don’t have to panic, stress, or doubt.
Take it easy, I warn myself.
Dakota: Do you have a special app or something that tells you when I’m writing a message?
Jack: Ha, I wish. What do you think I am, some kind of tech whizz? I’ve just been checking every spare chance I get, just in case a notification didn’t come through. Is that creepy or endearing?
Dakota: Maybe both? Creepdearing?
Jack:
Jack: How’ve you been? I saw you’ve been spending more time in the Cove, even the crappy version we’ve still got on the server.
Dakota: You’ve been watching my stream?
Jack: Of course.
He replies, like it’s obvious.
Jack: When you said space, I assumed you meant direct contact. I need my daily hit of Dakota or I’ll go nuts, especially spending sixteen hours straight in the programming dungeons.
I feel like an excited teenager realizing her crush has been paying attention after all. But I’m not a teenager, not even close. I’m thirty years old and I won’t allow myself to be swept away like debris.
Dakota: That’s really nice.
I reply one thing, when really, I want to say is that means so much to me. I was so nervous, you stopped caring the moment we had sex, like that was all you wanted me for or something.
I send a quick follow-up.
Dakota: How’s the Cove coming along?
Jack: Would you rather I tell you? Or show you?
Dakota: Do you even have to ask? Booting up my computer now.
As I go into my office, I’m aware we haven’t spoken about any of the issues. The PR drama, the awkwardness of crawling around like an ugly secret on the floor, the fact I care too much too fast, and I know I can’t stop.
Still, I don’t have to show him any of that. If we can’t escape into Empire’s Fall, a game known for escapism, where can we?
When I log into the game, I get an immediate invitation from TheRealCreator.
When I accept, I appear in Emerald Cove. A moment later, another screen pops up.
Voice chat with The Real Creator?
DakkyDuck: I can’t find my mic.
I type, then delete the message. If I’m not going to be honest, there’s no point even continuing.
DakkyDuck: Can we stick to text for now? I find it easier.
TheRealCreator: I know the feeling. And of course.
The window disappears, giving me an unbroken view of the cove.
I laugh in delight when I see what they’ve added.
A waterfall made of glistening green water, spilling into the green lagoon.
A new pet-arena section, with seashells as seats surrounding it.
An island in the middle of the water, winking like the light from The Great Gatsby, with a sea creature swimming ominously up and down in front of it.
TheRealCreator: There’s player housing too.
His avatar walks over to me. His goblin is decked out in new, glistening emerald gear.
DakkyDuck: That gear’s new!
TheRealCreator: Do you want a set? You won’t be able to wear it outside this level, though. It can’t be teleported until we officially introduce it to the game.
DakkyDuck: Yes, please!
TheRealCreator: Voila.
I laugh in delight as my elf’s current set of gear goes back into my inventory, replaced with a set of glistening green.
DakkyDuck: Now we’re matching.
A message appears on the screen.
TheRealCreator would like to hold your hand. Accept?
I accept, and our characters walk hand in hand to the edge of the water, past the pet arena, past the waterfall. I spot a dirt plot to the left, indicating that if a player approaches, you can claim the land and your house will appear, which you can build in your own private server.
DakkyDuck: Let’s see yours then.
We wander over to it together. When he clicks the button, the starting hut appears, which every player gets before they customize it.
DakkyDuck: Boring!
My elf laughs.
His goblin chuckles, then his hut disappears.
TheRealCreator: Show me what you got.
I click the button. It takes a moment for my custom house to load in, as usual. Then, suddenly, my tower sprouts into existence. It’s built entirely of silver, with colorful banners hanging from every side. The door is the maw of a dragon, opening with crackling flames as we approach.
His goblin lets go of my elf’s hand, then he runs inside.
I follow, laughing as he jumps from surface to surface.
The tower is built as a vertical maze of sorts, with items from all the different expansions decorating it, getting older the higher we go.
On the top floor, a troll’s bone hangs from the wall, from the first-ever Empire’s Fall raid boss.
TheRealCreator: How long did this take?
DakkyDuck: You like it?
I shift around in my seat, shocked by how much I care.
TheRealCreator: This is serious talent. This is LEVEL DESIGN, beautiful. I love it.
DakkyDuck: I’m not sure of the exact time. I started when you first introduced housing. What was that—eight years ago? Time flies! I’ve been adding to it and changing things ever since.
TheRealCreator: It’s incredible. I could use this eye in our level design.
DakkyDuck: Don’t, Jack. Don’t make me offers or give me special treatment or anything like that.
TheRealCreator: If anybody sent me this house, I’d think the same thing. It’s not special because of us. It’s special because you’re special.
I feel a flush rising, like it does anytime he says anything sweet like this.
DakkyDuck: Thank you. But I’ve got a job, and I’m very happy with it. I’ve worked hard to get into this position.
TheRealCreator: Maybe we’ll do a special dungeon one day, designed by the one and only DakkyDuck.
DakkyDuck: Maybe ONE DAY.
TheRealCreator: You’ve got talent. But I’ll stop now. The last thing I want to be is the cliched billionaire love-bombing a younger woman.
DakkyDuck: I’m not trophy-wife young anyway, not anymore.
TheRealCreator: Dakota, if I had you on my arm, you’d be a trophy to me. JUST for me. Nobody else.
DakkyDuck: Okay, Mr. Possessive.
I send that because I feel like I have to, like I have to make at least a token effort to stay strong.
TheRealCreator: I can’t deny that. Maybe I should. Maybe it’d be the tactically right thing. But no, Dakky, you get the truth. I want to possess you.
A familiar shiver runs through my body.
DakkyDuck: You know I should run a mile, right?
TheRealCreator: How about you run directly into a real date?
I chew my lip, let it go. He’s got me doing that more in a couple of weeks than I have during my entire life before we met.
TheRealCreator: I want to make it up to you. I wish I could promise we can be open, that we don’t have to hide. I can’t, Dakota. But I can promise you’ll never have to hide like that again. That was piss-poor planning on my part. Hell, it wasn’t even a plan. I just lost control.
DakkyDuck: So did I. I never do stuff like that.
TheRealCreator: I haven’t even been with a woman in years. Then I saw you, naked, ready, beautiful, confident, and just a little shy… it broke me. I didn’t even feel awake until that knock came at the door.
My inner thighs tremble slightly, my core pulsing.
DakkyDuck: I know what you mean. It was like being inside a dream.
TheRealCreator: Exactly. This time, we’ll have space. We’ll have time. We won’t have to rush.
DakkyDuck: Rush what, hmm?
His goblin kneels in front of me.
TheRealCreator: M’lady, accept my apologies. I am just a nice guy who wants to treat you like the queen you are.
DakkyDuck: Ew, no!
I laugh.
DakkyDuck: I think I prefer full beast to full nice guy.
TheRealCreator: Ha, ha, I thought that’d be your reaction. So—a date?
I’m almost tempted to tell him we can date in the game. Which is true. Build a table in our secret cave, our clamshell bed right there, waiting for our avatars to fill it. But I can’t hide behind screens forever.
DakkyDuck: I want to. How would it work?
TheRealCreator: I send a limo. Only, this time, I’ll be waiting for you inside.
DakkyDuck: And then what?
TheRealCreator: And then you sit beside me, patient and obedient, knowing your big bad CEO doesn’t want to ruin the surprise…
I pretend to be outraged. But I’m laughing. It’s like I can hear his husky, sarcastic voice.
DakkyDuck: Patient and OBEDIENT?
DakkyDuck: You wish.
TheRealCreator: No, I don’t. I want you sassy. Wild. I want you unimpressed. I want you… you.
Another smile takes hold of me, wide, carefree, and probably goofy.
DakkyDuck: I love surprises. But remember, you don’t have to buy me.
TheRealCreator: If I do something extravagant, it’s because I want to see you smile. Nothing else. Feel free to tell me and my goblin dick to get away from you.
I laugh hard, wiping a tear from my eye.
DakkyDuck: That’s easier said than done.