Chapter 4
“I’m just saying you should invite him over again.” Mom carefully avoided my eyes as she put away the last of the clean dishes.
I sighed and stirred the sauce simmering on the stove. “I don’t have time to play games with him.”
She snorted, tossing her short dark hair out of her face. “That’s literally ninety percent of your job. Invite him on your stream. Have him take his shirt off. Your follower count would go through the roof.”
I turned my back on her so she wouldn’t see the consideration on my face. “I’m not objectifying him either.”
It wasn’t a bad idea. If I had less stringent morals, I could make a killing doing a series of challenge matches with him on my channel.
Mase was stupidly attractive, skilled at video games, and already well-known among the college sports crowd.
There wasn’t much of a crossover between physical and esports viewers, but any amount of bonus fans he could bring in would be worth it.
The idea rolled around in the back of my mind, along with an image of Mase playing games shirtless at my computer. I definitely wouldn’t use him as eye candy, but the challenge matches could be interesting.
I turned off the second burner and nearly ran into Mom as I turned to drain the pasta. “Jeez, lady.”
She pointed a finger in my face. “You’re thinking about it. Good.”
I lifted the heavy pot of boiling water and spaghetti an inch higher. “Can you move?”
She slipped to the side, watching me intently. “I want to meet him.”
“You’re welcome to march over there and introduce yourself.” The second I let the comment slip I winced. “Sorry.”
“Stop it. I’m not going to break down every time you mention leaving the house.”
I dumped the hot water and returned the pot to the stove. “I know, but I don’t have to be a dick about it either.”
Mom patted at her dry eyes. “You truly are a shining example of my fantastic parenting skills.”
“Why do you have to be like this?” I muttered.
She ambushed me from the side, kissing my temple and stealing the pot of sauce. “Because it’s fun. Since you suggested it, I think I’ll wait at the doorway until he comes outside then yell at him until he comes over. Maybe I could fake an injury.”
“Mom, do not harass our neighbor. He’s already annoyed by Hudson’s love affair with his duck. Though I’m not sure he realizes it’s his own fault Hud is so obsessed with his window.”
“The duck is adorable.” She flounced away to the dining table we’d set earlier.
I grabbed the pasta and followed her. “Not a good enough excuse to invite him over under false pretenses. If he wants to come back, he will.”
It was quickly becoming obvious I should never have told her about our late-night visitor. I’d only mentioned Mase the next morning because I didn’t want her to freak out if he actually did return. Except two days had passed with no sign of him.
Two days of Mom’s increasingly firm requests to invite him in again. Tonight was the first time she’d mentioned actually wanting to meet him. Usually she recited her regular litany of reasons why I didn’t spend enough time outside the house with people my own age.
I didn’t care how much she complained—I preferred staying home where I could keep an eye on her.
Mom raised a brow at me. “Have you ever considered I might be lonely? You’re a lovely young lady, but a woman has needs—”
“Nope.” I dropped the pot on the table fast enough a little slopped over the edge, then covered my ears with my hands. “No. Lalalalala.”
I watched her sigh. “Now who’s being childish?”
Her words had no trouble penetrating my hand shields, but I played it out. “Can’t hear you because you insist on making sexy comments about our neighbor.”
“Who said anything about sexy comments? I’m simply pointing out I could use a friend who doesn’t try to use earmuffs to get out of a conversation.”
I shrugged and let the charade go so I could load my plate. “I told you to join that bridge group.”
“I don’t need your pity suggestions. That bridge group is full of old biddies, including Mrs. Lipnicki. Bad enough she watches us through her curtains. Hudson is developing a complex about peeing in the front yard… and you know I prefer poker over bridge.”
Mom was a card shark. I refused to play poker with her anymore because she never lost. Probably more a comment on my own poor poker skills than hers, but even before the attack, she’d cleaned up at poker night with her teacher friends.
She wasn’t wrong about Mrs. Lipnicki though.
“Fine. Then join a different group in this small college town that will come to our house for every meeting.”
She sniffed imperiously. “I don’t want a group of friends. I want one friend. Mason… and his dick.”
I nearly choked on my spaghetti when I misheard her on the last part. At least, I hoped I misheard her. The sly grin on her face made me question myself, but I refused to give her what she wanted by asking her to clarify.
Sometimes being her only point of human contact was exhausting. Maybe she was right. Another person taking on some of her sass would go a long way toward preserving my sanity.
“Mase and his duck—” I emphasized the last word just in case “—are busy being college hockey stars. He’s got an active life. Let him live it.”
She tsked. “There’s always room for friendship in a lonely man’s circle.”
I threw my hands up. “He’s not lonely. He lives with a bunch of people, I’m not even sure how many, who come and go all the time.
Not to mention all the animals we’ve seen in the backyard.
I think one of his roommates has a giant bearded dragon…
or they found a way to clone a tiny, frilled dinosaur. ”
“We should get a tiny, frilled dinosaur,” she mumbled to herself.
I chose not to touch that one and stuffed spaghetti in my mouth.
“Have you heard from that gaming group again?”
I sucked in a breath and nearly choked on my meatball. “How do you know about them?”
“I pay attention. Also, I have your email password in case of emergencies.”
“Mom. Spying on me does not constitute an emergency.”
She shrugged. “You say potato. I say—”
“Felony?” I interrupted her, coughing. “I’m changing my password right after I dislodge meat from my trachea.”
“Don’t be dramatic, honey. It would be a misdemeanor at worst.” She waved away my concerns, taking a dainty bite of her food. “Why aren’t you more excited for the chance to play professionally?”
“I am excited, but I already play professionally. I’m a professional who plays video games.”
“In a skimpy tank top,” she added, unhelpfully.
“I get sweaty when I play. You know that.”
I was getting sweaty now. Mom wasn’t supposed to know about the offer. She supported me one hundred percent in my chosen career, but esports teams were notoriously fickle. They constantly traded players in or out based on the makeup of the team. I needed a steady income to provide for both of us.
Worse, they wanted me there in person. Their practice facility was in Baltimore, and I’d be expected to travel with the team to competitions. I’d already had to uproot Mom once this year thanks to an obsessed fan who’d found my address.
I’d had to sit with her at night for weeks before she could sleep comfortably in the new space. I couldn’t move her to Maryland then abandon her there alone for weeks on end. She couldn’t leave the house without having a panic attack.
Mom patted my hand as if she could read my inner turmoil. “It’s your choice how to use your talents, but I’d love to see you make that asshole commentator eat his words.”
I huffed out a laugh, surprised she remembered the vocal detractor from my first competition. The commentator from five years ago had dismissed me as using my pretty face to cheat and predicted I’d flame out when the world realized I had no real skill.
He was a misogynistic asshole, and he was only the loudest in a deafening sea of small-dicked men feeling threatened by a woman in their space. They said the same shit to anyone killing it who wasn’t a white dude.
Still. He’d been right about me flaming out.
A couple of days after I won, while I was doing guest spots on podcasts and fellow streamers’ channels, Mom had gone out for an evening walk by herself. She only made it one block before a guy in a black hoodie shoved her into an alleyway.
One of our neighbors found her a couple of hours later, bleeding and unconscious. I flew home right away.
I’ll never forget the sight of her in the hospital, small and bruised and unable to meet my eyes. We never found the guy, and I never left for another competition.
Mom was fine most of the time, but if I leave, she gets increasingly agitated, despite her best efforts to hide it. She couldn’t be alone, and I refused to leave her.
At one point in my life, playing on an esports team would have been the ultimate achievement, but it wasn’t worth the sacrifice.
Except these guys were persuasive, and they’d dangled the idea of a local competition in front of me. I wouldn’t have as much time for my channel, which would negatively impact my income, but damn, I wanted to say yes.
I cleared my throat again, pushing the temptation away. “I don’t make life choices based off of public sentiment. Besides, he wasn’t entirely wrong. Not all my viewers come to watch me play. Some are simply perverts.”
Mom stiffened, not an obvious straightening, but a subtle tense. “Have you gotten any more messages?”
I flipped my hand to grasp hers, trying to reassure her. “Don’t worry. Our information is unlisted now, and the security company sends me a weekly update.”
I had an assistant moderating during my streams, so I didn’t have to deal with the disgusting messages from guys who had no social skills. Ignoring the problem didn’t make it go away though.
After Walter, the crazed fan, showed up on our doorstep raging because I hadn’t taken part in his imaginary romance, I’d hired a company to start checking those hidden messages for warning signs.
She squeezed my fingers before letting go to resume eating. The playful tone from earlier was gone. Eradicated by our shared history of bullshit.
“Mom?” I asked quietly.
She met my eyes with her mouth full and her brows raised.
“Are you happy here?”
Mom took her sweet time to chew and swallow. “Most of the time, yes. The house is nice. Hudson likes the backyard. There’s always someone available on Door Dash.”
I relaxed—a smidge too early it turned out.
“And there’s a whole house of young, attractive men living next door. Speaking of which, when are you inviting your late-night caller over to meet me?”
I let my head drop onto the table with a thunk which only muffled Mom’s laughter a little bit.
She wouldn’t let it go, and it finally occurred to me she might be nervous about a strange man spending time in the house. If I introduced them, he wouldn’t be a strange man anymore. This stubborn insistence was her way of alleviating her anxiety without drawing attention to her issues.
I sincerely hoped Mason Black was prepared for the chaos she’d bring to his life. I knew I wasn’t ready for the turmoil he’d bring to mine.