Chapter 9
NOAH
It was weird being back on Team Olympus, back in the Clik Games, after everything that’d happened.
The number of people just outright staring at me as I headed into the dining hall with the guys was uncomfortable to say the least. Understandable, given they’d all seen Ace and I assaulted and nearly killed on live stream, but still uncomfortable.
The camp had put out a buffet, so we grabbed some plates and loaded up with food before sitting at one of the long tables.
“Hey, guys,” a familiar girl purred as she slid into the bench seat beside us.
“You all won me a bet by showing up here, and I’m extremely grateful.
” She fluttered her lash extensions, and I remembered meeting her at the introduction stage.
Sakura—-Torin’s ex, if I were to guess, though none of them had confirmed.
“Sakura, how delightful,” August drawled with heavy sarcasm, getting up from his seat and physically sitting back down between Sakura and Torin. “What do you want?”
She fluttered her lashes again, looking offended.
“Augie, don’t be like that. I just wanted to say thank you because half my team were betting Olympus would drop from the Games after what happened to Noah and Ace.
How are you, by the way?” Her sharp gaze shifted to me, and I shrank a little in my seat, trying to disappear into the floor.
“Fine,” I muttered, keeping it brief. The official line from Olympus management was to avoid discussing the attack with anyone, and we’d already taken note of at least a dozen mounted cameras when we entered the hall.
Everything that happened at Camp Beaver was subject to editing by the various teams’ corporate departments, and I refused to become viral again so soon.
“That was a pretty scary incident, though,” Sakura pressed, leaning her elbows on the table in a way that pushed her tits up front and center.
I desperately wanted to check if the boys were taking a look, but at the same time I needed to maintain my own disguise…
“Your attacker seemed very persistent in uncovering some sort of secret before the audio was removed. Do you know what that was all about?”
I gritted my teeth, knowing she was fishing, but still…
“Sakura, it’s none of your fucking business,” Torin snapped. “Take the win, even though you knew perfectly well we’d never quit.”
She seemed totally unbothered by his tone, shrugging one delicate shoulder. “So? Easy win is still a win. I had a chat with one of the producers earlier, and it sounds like there’s going to be some collaboration challenges this week. We should team up.”
“What a tempting offer,” Z scoffed, shaking his head. “We’ll get back to you on that one.”
“After some very serious thought, of course,” Skye added with equal sarcasm. “But ultimately it’s up to Ace, and you know how he feels about your team…”
Sakura gave an exaggerated sigh, pushing up from her seat. “You guys used to be so much more fun. Your new team contracts blow and not in the sexy way.”
She flipped her hair as she sauntered away, and I took a long, hard look at her retreating form. It wasn’t so long ago that I was her, flaunting my femininity and sexuality to get my Cliks. It was oddly comforting to realize I didn’t miss that version of myself at all.
“You good?” Skye asked, bumping me with his shoulder.
“Yup, fine,” I quickly replied with a smile. “I imagine she won’t be the last person who’s curious about the attack.” My stomach rumbled, so I turned my attention to the plate of food in front of me and tried hard to ignore the eyes on me from various points around the room.
For a few minutes, the boys chatted together about the Camp Beaver week and how the ClikByte execs intended to relaunch the Games after Cat’s murder setback, and I happily stayed quiet and ate my dinner.
It was an unexpected perk of pretending to be a dude, that I could eat whatever the fuck I wanted and not feel shamed or judged for my choices.
I mean, within reason, because my sport demanded I keep pretty fit, so I still made good choices, but no one was staring at my portion size and making snide comments about my weight nor commenting on how fast I ate.
Fucking Rich had really done some damage to my self--esteem, and I hadn’t even noticed until we were done.
“You’re quiet, Chicken,” Minho commented softly as I finished my plate. “Are you doing okay? You probably could have gotten away with another week of sick leave.”
I flashed him a grin, my insides turning to fizzy bubbles at just the briefest eye contact as his tattoo--covered arm draped casually over my shoulders. “And leave you lot to fuck this up for the team? I think the hell not. Besides, Ace didn’t seem too willing to give me any easy outs.”
Minnie’s expression darkened and his jaw ticked. “Has he hurt you again?”
“Excuse me?” Z spluttered from across the table. “Ace hurt you? When? How?”
Crap. I shook my head quickly, shooting a hard glance at Torin beside Z, and elbowed Skye, who’d just opened his mouth to answer.
“No, Minnie’s being dramatic. Ace and I had a disagreement that ended a little bit physical.
No big deal, right? Dudes get rough all the time in arguments.
Right?” That last right was aimed at Tor, silently demanding he back me up on this story.
And I wasn’t wrong. Guys often engaged in a little physical violence when settling a dispute. Minnie punching Ace twice was a prime example of that, so them freaking out over a couple of little bruises on my neck was annoying. Especially for those who didn’t know I was a girl.
“Right. No big deal,” Tor muttered, his face like a thundercloud. Even angry, he was handsome enough I could easily get lost staring at him, which gave me some insight into his obsessive need to sketch people’s faces. He was just lucky he had the talent to accurately capture the beauty he saw.
As if his ears were burning, Ace strode into the dining hall with Xavier right beside him like an overgrown lapdog—-or hellhound.
“That’s my cue to leave,” I muttered under my breath, standing up and climbing over the bench seat. I was the only one finished, and there was a clear hesitation from a couple of the boys who weren’t ready to leave their plates. “You guys finish up. I’m just going to check out the grounds.”
Before they could argue, I carried my plate over to the dirty dish station and kept my gaze firmly away from Ace and Xavier as I hauled ass out of the dining hall as fast as possible without actually running.
I wasn’t scared of them, but I also had no desire to spend unnecessary time interacting.
Ace made his position clear at Olympus Corp, and I had enough dignity to leave it at that.
I hadn’t lied when I said I wanted to look around.
Stuffing my hands into the deep pockets of my huge, zip--up hoodie, I followed the sign pointing away from the cabins, indicating an archery range and stables.
I clicked my tongue against my teeth as I noted a camera mounted on that same signpost, then let out a long sigh as I wandered along the path.
It was to be expected, but the lack of a physical camera crew would make it far too easy to forget that our every move was being recorded.
No doubt that’s what they were counting on.
This week—-and the associated footage—-was helping to launch a new division of ClikByte, which focused on longer--format content, and from what Jared and Kelly told me, there was a lot of money riding on the success of this new foray.
Still, it made my skin prickle to feel so watched, especially seeing as I only had my binder on loosely thanks to my still--healing ribs.
My doctor had warned me against wearing it at all, but that seemed way too risky in a setting like this.
I kept it loose enough that I needed the extra large hoodie to keep my androgynous shape.
It also didn’t help that eating like a boy was giving me curves I’d never had in my whole damn life, something my stylist had commented on during my wardrobe overhaul yesterday.
I was hot, though, so I lowered my zipper a couple inches to get a little air flow under my shirt.
“Where are you going, Little Dude?”
The question startled me so hard I nearly tripped but caught myself with a hand against a tree trunk before spinning around to glare at Xavier. “None of your business. Why are you following me?”
He shrugged, tilting his head with a curious expression on his handsome face.
It was so damn hard to reconcile the Xavier Stone I spent so many years crushing on with this dickhead.
Sometimes my imagination ran away with me a little, and I wondered what he’d be like if he knew who I really was.
Sometimes I found myself curious what kind of messages he’d been exchanging with “Peaches,” never knowing it was actually Rich who’d been replying.
Actually, that was kind of funny, come to think of it. How graphic had Rich been in private messages for tips? Gross, knowing he was pretending to be me, but also hilarious to know Xavier freaking Stone had likely been sexting with my ex--boyfriend.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, and I quickly wiped the smile off my face when he stepped closer.
“You,” I replied, tilting my chin up in stubborn confidence. He was too comfortable using his size to intimidate, and I wasn’t in the mood to be pushed around. “I bet you were pissed when Ace said I was coming back to the team, huh?”
A small frown touched his brow. “Not really. I expected you would. You’ve got that real cockroach vibe to you, Little Dude. Hard to kill.”
A shiver ran down my spine at the way he said that, like he’d put real thought into how someone might kill me. Why did Xavier have such a darkness to him when he was away from the rest of the team? He wasn’t like this around them.
I also didn’t really know where to go with that, and I was suddenly very aware of how isolated we were between the dining halls and stables. “Okay, cool. Good chat.”
As I turned to walk away, he reached out as if to grab my shoulder but I dodged, and he ended up grabbing my hoodie instead.
“Wait—-” he started to say, then sucked a sharp breath. “What the fuck is that?”
“What the fuck is what?” I shot back, argumentative before processing the question, but my brain caught up a moment later and I wrenched my hoodie out of his grip, zipping it up to my chin.
His lips parted and his brows shot up in shock, then he firmly swatted my hand away to tug the zip back down again, revealing the faded but still noticeable bruises around my neck.
In fairness, it was far from the worst bruising I’d ever had—-my ribs were a lot fucking worse—-but my skin had a tendency to hold the color way longer than it should.
They didn’t even hurt anymore, which was why I’d forgotten they were visible.
“What the—-” he gasped, seeming genuinely horrified. “Who hurt you?”
I snort--laughed. “Uh, do you live under a fucking rock, Xavier? Remember I got tied up and nearly killed like two weeks ago?” Not actually where the bruises came from, but for real…that was plausible.
Xavier scowled, running a surprisingly gentle thumb over the marks. I clenched my teeth hard to keep from shivering as I stepped back.
“You didn’t get these during the attack, Little Dude.” It was a statement not a question.
I narrowed my eyes. “How the fuck would you know? Maybe I did.”
He squinted back at me, like I was testing his patience. “But you didn’t because your neck wasn’t bruised when you left the hospital.”
“How the fuck would you know?” I repeated again, louder this time and a little panicked because seriously, how would he know?
“I know lots of things,” he snapped back. “Like how I know this happened after you went home. So I’ll ask again: Who hurt you?”
I scoffed, shaking my head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.
Go stomp on Tokyo, Godzilla. I’ll be just fine without you breathing fire all over my enemies.
” Why the hell I felt the need to protect Ace, I had no clue.
Maybe just because it was Xavier, and he was a dick?
Maybe because I was still secretly twisted up with complex emotions about the incident that’d accompanied the neck bruises.
This time when I turned to leave, he didn’t stop me. But he did need the last word, like freaking always. “Godzilla doesn’t breathe fire, dumbass!”
My response was an extended middle finger as I stomped away in search of the stables. Maybe some horses could calm my tingling, frayed nerves.