Page 42 of Aim Assist

The door swings open and my head snaps up. My jaw drops. A man in full tactical gear strides in, a white skull mask obscuring his face. Holy shit.

"Phantom cosplay is his persona?" The words tumble out before I can stop them.

K's laughter fills the room. "Brilliant, right?"

Phantom—Skull Mask Guy—scoffs. "It's stupid, and the amount we have to pay to let it happen is ridiculous."

That voice... It can't be. I shake my head, trying to dispel the notion. I'm projecting. I'm crazy. Liam is everywhere in my thoughts today. Of course I'd imagine him in this ridiculous getup.

Still, hearing that deep timbre sends a shiver down my spine. It's unsettling how much this stranger affects me, all because he reminds me of Liam, except a Liam in the sexiest cosplay alive.

Jesus Christ. Even after being railed last night, I'm still ready to throw myself at any man in tac gear? I have a problem. Maybe I have a hitherto unknown sex addiction.

Tearing my eyes from Skull Mask Guy, I force myself to focus as K guides me back to the chair, setting up all of our streaming. It takes no time at all to log into my stream, which has been advertised for the past couple days—by me, and by the company.

What if no one joins? Or they leave because they hate it? Wow. That would be… pathetic.

They have fake accounts for situations like that. Right?

Anyway, I can't let my feelings for Liam bleed into every interaction. Besides, the last time I fell for a guy in cosplay, it ended in disaster. Paul Picklestick, AKA my cheating ex, is proof enough of that.

And even if I wanted something more, I'm currently in a vague situation with Liam, and I'm not about to add another entanglement to my plate.

Straightening my shoulders, I resolve to maintain my professionalism. Whoever this masked man is, he's a colleague, not a potential love interest. I won't make the same mistake twice—

"Liam, a quick photo before we start. This is going to be great. I'm brilliant. Okay, try to look menacing. Maybe less menacing. Okay, no, more menacing. Yep, that's perfect."

Liam.

Liam.

My Liam?

Liam who fucked me like I'd never been fucked before?

Elevator Liam?

Liam who twiddled me at the bar, in public?

Liam the not-a-driver?

I stare at the man in cosplay, my eyes roving over his body. He's massive. Bulky. The tactical gear emphasizes his broad shoulders, his muscular thighs. I can't see his hair under the mask, but when he turns on K's orders, our eyes meet.

They're a gorgeous blue-green, a shade I've only seen once before. On Liam. In the elevator, in my room, in the throes of passion.

Realization is a bitch. It's a fucking plane crash straight into my heart.

The man I slept with last night, the one who gave me the most intense pleasure I've ever known... is my streaming partner. And he didn't say a word.

Rage blazes through me as I keep my face impassive. He knew. He fucking knew, and he hid it from me. Was last night a game to him? A conquest before the big revelation?

Seething in silence, I clench my teeth so hard my jaw aches. I want to demand answers, but I can't. I'm not starting drama at my job.

I'm a fucking professional.

So I fake it. I paste on a smile that feels more like a grimace, force a laugh that sounds hollow even to my own ears as the streams begin.

Of course it's Liam. I remember now. Liam, Asher's friend. Liam, the landlord. Liam. God. Sam had said something about him seducing me, and I'd only paid minimal attention to his name.

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