Page 6 of Aim Assist

Her aim is dead-on, movements fluid and precise. A real pro, even as she giggles in my ear when she does something she's proud of.

It isn't strange that she never spoke in the previous match. Most girls don't use voice chat. Can't really blame them, with all the toxic crap that gets flung around. That's what happens when you play a game that appeals to a bunch of shit-variety human.

Starting to feel a little guilty that I didn't stand up for her then, but hell, I had no idea she was a girl. Besides, I'm not into white-knighting random strangers.

And apologizing now would make it seem like I have ulterior motives. I don't want her to think I'm one of those guys, in it for a few curvy pixels.

Wait, didn't she say she was streaming? I wonder what she looks like.

No, no. Not gonna be one of those creepers. If I wouldn't look up a guy's stream, I shouldn't look up hers.

"Trickshot, watch your six!"

I spin, narrowly avoiding death by a brainless ghoul. My shotgun roars and what little is left of its humanity splatters across the devastated land.

"Close one. I owe you a beer."

She laughs. "Make it a whiskey and you're on."

We fight in sync, a well-oiled machine leaving carnage in our wake. Asher would love her. Lucky bastard, getting to game with his girl on the regular. Even if it is the candy-sweet BABR, at least he has good company.

Focus, Liam. No time for jealousy. Survive now, mope later.

"You planning to daydream all day or help me torch this spawn point?" Her snark jolts me back to the moment.

"Yes, ma'am." I prime a grenade. "Frag out!"

The rotten planks erupt in flame as we sprint for the next objective, and I grin like a maniac. Damn, it feels good to cut loose again. No responsibilities, no worries.

Nothing but pure, adrenaline-fueled fun.

Her snarky orders keep me smiling. I wasn't expecting much—just a competent partner. Now, I'm wondering if it would be weird to ask her if she'd play together regularly. It doesn't seem right to ask, though.

I really don't want her to think I'm some sort of simp over a girl who plays games. Hell, my best friend's fiancee plays games. I know they exist.

Fuck. Why is it so hard to make friends with a girl online? It's like every thought I have is another pitfall, ready to label me as a creepy ass motherfucker.

"You have eyes, don't you? Use them!"

"You're the boss, lady boss." I chuckle as we clear another infested block. She gets as fired up as anyone when she's in the middle of a match. Honestly, based on personality alone, I might have looked up a male streamer. So, would it be creepy to check hers out?

I mean, it doesn't matter what she looks like—I'd still want to play. It isn't like I need to find ass online.

"Ugh, really? Lady boss?" Her disdain is palpable.

"You prefer something else? Sarge, lieutenant, major..."

"Lady boss is fine," she sighs. Dramatically.

"Yes, ma'am." I can't help but grin. Her energy is infectious.

We push on. AmYDeadYet's colorful commentary never stops. It's impressive, really, the sheer creativity of her insults.

"Hey, what do your followers think of that mouth?" I ask during a lull. "Seems pretty spicy for a public stream."

Silence. Shit, did I cross a line?

Then she bursts out laughing, borderline hysterical. "Oh man, you have no idea."

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