Page 3 of Pin-up Girl

I really wasn’t. For the longest time I’d thought I was in love with the boy next door—Deacon. When I told him how I felt, and he didn’t feel the same way, I’d been crushed.

But in the time that had passed since, I’d had time to think and consider. I was glad we hadn’t worked out, because I never wanted to find myself in a relationship just because I was lonely. I was good being single. The right guy or girl would have to make me feel just as comfortable with them as I was without them.

I settled into my chair, slipped on my headphones, and pulled up the online game that I played. Maybe BW was online. I loved gaming with him because he respected my skills as a player, and at the same time let me be meek and vulnerable when I needed.

I refused to call him by his full screen name—BetaWrecker. No numbers. No extra characters. He’d been in the game that long. When I first saw the character, I steered clear of him. He was playing a sorcerer, he was in all the highest end gear, and he spent a lot of time hanging around in the main square in-game.

Basically everything about his character screamed douche, like most every other guy in game.

I logged in, and frowned when I didn’t see him online. That meant tonight I was distracting myself by killing mobs. I did a quick check of my inventory and gear, then teleported to my favorite grinding spot on the game map.

It was a high enough level region that even the higher end players didn’t linger out here, and there were no quests in the area. The fights would challenge me without being impossible, and I’d probably be left alone.

Including by the one person I’d hoped to see.

I never would’ve given BW the time of day, but we were matched going into a dungeon. I needed to get my quest done, so I’d switched classes from fighter to healer. I tended to keep a voice filter on and play a male character, so I wouldn’t get harassed. He’d made a few comments in the dungeon that were actually funny. Not elitist or sexist.

When the run was over, he and I were still talking. We’d just clicked. We chatted for hours that night, and again the next night. It had taken me a long time to drop my defenses with him, but four years later, he was my best friend who didn’t live in Haddarville. He and I told each other everything.

Well, not everything. We didn’t know each other’s real names, jobs, or locations. We’d never seen each other’s faces. I did eventually turn off the voice filter so he knew I was female. I knew he was a tech genius.

“What’s your camping penalty at, Peach?” His voice came over my headphones.

I smiled at the interruption, and the way his being online filled me with warm fuzzies. A glance at my XP confirmed that sure enough, I’d been out here fighting so long that the game was penalizing me—giving me a camping penalty—for hunting in the same spot.

“I guess I was lost in my own head.” I walked my character out of the clearing to stand next to him at the edge of the forest. “Did you just log in?”

Though we were talking over headsets, and all I saw of him was a series of pixels on screen, the conversation was as real and easy as if we were face to face.

“I’ve been watching you for about twenty minutes,” BW said.

Heat flooded my cheeks. “Why?”

“You look extra fucking sexy in that tight little leather piece.”

I posed my male character on screen, showing off my newest armor. “Right? I finally finished dying it my colors.”

His rumble of appreciation rolled through me, summoning a pleasant shiver. “I logged on, you didn’t say hi,” he said. “I found you here, and you didn’t notice me when I showed up, so I took advantage of the opportunity to stare. You do incredible things with your weapon.”

“I’ll do amazing things to you with my weapon,” I teased.

“Pretty sure that’s my line.”

I laughed. This was easy with him. There was zero expectation, whether I was in the mood to be a skilled gamer or a submissive little slut. He was himself either way, which meant I could be the same. “Considering I’m not getting real XP, do you wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah.” He agreed. “Your place?”

“My place.” I had an in-game house that I’d spent hours decorating. It was cute and fun, and I even had a beanbag in my living room that I won in an in-game event. It wasn’t appropriate at all to the world or setting, which was part of the reason I loved it.

Like the vintage clothing I sold, I adored taking something out of its time or place, and giving it a spot to belong again.

Plus, our avatars could cuddle on the digital beanbag, which we did the moment we were in the house.

“So what’s actually on your mind, that you’re willing to zone out and watch me kill gryphosnorks for twenty minutes?” I asked as I lay next to him.

There was a pause. “I already told you. I was enjoying the show.”

“Uh-huh. What’s the real answer?”

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