Page 12 of Aim Assist

I've never been asked to murder people via stream before. It's a little touching.

"So, what are you packing?"

"Mmm. I'm streaming, so it'll be my vintage dresses. Some comfy pajamas. Make-up. Hair shit. Not sure what else."

Sam sounds excited. "Pack some fuck-me clothes! In case you get lucky with Liam."

"Fuck-me clothes? You want me to pack fuck-me clothes?" I laugh into the phone. "Are you shitting me? And who's Liam?"

"Why not? You'll be alone with him for a week. Might as well look hot. Liam's the other streamer. My old landlord, you know, the nice one? Asher's friend."

"Sammi, I'm not going to seduce a guy I don't know."

"You don't have to seduce him. Just be prepared in case he seduces you."

I roll my eyes. "What makes you think he'd want to?"

"Because you're gorgeous and funny and smart and any man would be lucky to have you."

Her words warm me. She's the best friend a girl could ask for. "You're biased."

"Doesn't mean I'm wrong."

I snort. "Even if I wanted to pack something sexy, which I don't, I wouldn't know what to bring."

"Ooh, let's see..." I can practically hear the wheels turning in her head. "That black lace teddy you wore for Halloween last year."

"I was a sexy cat. You want me to bring my cat ears and tail too?"

"Why not? Maybe he's into that."

"Oh my god, stop!" I'm laughing so hard my stomach hurts. "I am not bringing my sexy cat costume."

"Fine, fine. But at least bring something lacy. And short. Show off those legs, girl."

I shake my head, although she can't see me. "I'll think about it."

"You better. And call me every night with all the dirty details."

"There won't be any dirty details."

"We'll see..." Her sing-song voice teases.

I chuckle. "Goodbye, Sammi."

"Bye, love. Have fun!"

I hang up the phone, shaking my head with an amused smile at Sam's antics. That girl, I swear. Now that she's engaged and a mother, she wants me to get laid. It's a twist of our usual dynamic.

Turning back to my closet, I scrutinize the racks of clothes with a critical eye. A few vintage dresses make the cut, and I love the way the bright colors and bold patterns pop. Perfect for on-camera. A few casual outfits join the pile too, in case I venture out of the hotel room for food or whatever.

My hand pauses on a slinky little black number, the one I wore on my last anniversary date with Paul. I almost shove it aside, but some reckless part of me tosses it in the suitcase instead, along with a pair of strappy heels that make my legs look a mile long.

Sifting through my lingerie drawer, I bypass the ratty cotton panties and bras I usually wear in favor of the sexier matching sets buried underneath. Sheer lace, satin and silk in rich jewel tones. The kind of underwear that makes you feel like a goddess.

It's not for any nefarious seduction purposes. It's just a little confidence booster. Armor, in a sense. Something pretty and feminine to shore up my defenses in an unfamiliar situation. To make me feel powerful and in control.

It has absolutely nothing to do with this Liam guy. He could be a troll for all I know. Some neckbeard living in his mom's basement.