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“So glad to hear it. Really, really glad. How about we go back upstairs and hash out the details?”

DeathsHead nodded and the executive turned to Min.

“I’m assuming you’re Minerva Hayes?”

Min tried a smile, but wasn’t sure how genuine it came out. “That’s me.”

He held out his hand. “I’m Brad, Vice President of Bleeding Sword. We’re so happy you could make it. And I apologize for… the misunderstanding.”

Minerva nodded, not sure what else to say. The whole situation was beyond anything she had dealt with before, and clearly Brad was feeling the awkwardness as well.

His coworker, however, seemed to have recovered. He chuckled as his hand waved between her and DeathsHead.

“As odd as this is, I have to say it’s an honor to be here with both of you. We’re big fans of you two.”

DeathsHead turned to Min, a question in his eyes, and Min found herself filled with cold anticipation for how he was going to respond. Her lips curved into a sardonic smile.

“Who are you?” he finally asked, suspicion filling his voice.

Her lips curved into a sardonic smile. “Minerva. But you know me as FlameThrower.”

The shock on his face was worth it.

CHAPTER3

HAYDEN

She was fucking FlameThrower.

Hayden couldn’t stop himself from searching her face, looking for the signs he had previously missed. Her eyes seemed bigger without the lashes, the winged liner, and everything else she layered on for her streaming channel. Her hair—her real hair—was a deep auburn, probably the fire of her namesake, and it curled around her like flames. Without the pink contacts, her eyes were dark brown, with flecks of gold when the light hit them right. But dark enough to pierce straight through Hayden when she focused.

She said her name was Minerva. Hayden had trouble reconciling her real name with her online persona. FlameThrower loved attention. She was bold and funny and had a laugh that could infect others. The disguise she wore while she was streaming was cute, a little sexy, something that seemed completely the opposite of the fierce, argumentative woman he had played against… and yet it all wrapped up into one intriguing package.

The woman in front of him was different than what he had come to know for FlameThrower. Cold, quiet. More likely to listen than to talk. But when he thought about it, Hayden had to admit, the temper was the same.

He couldn’t get over the fact that the woman next to him had been playing games with him for years. Sometimes Hayden won. Sometimes she won. Their rivalry was legendary, and the fans ate it up. Hayden would often find himself watching her solo streams, trying to learn her latest strategies to use against her the next time they played. He had spent hours talking with her, playing with her, watching her. And now that she was near him, sitting next to him, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t recognized her right away.

He was an idiot.

Hayden had never before felt like such a piece of shit. His brother liked to joke that Hayden was the calmest person he had ever met, that nothing short of a house fire could get his temper up. As a tall, large man, Hayden made sure to control himself, knowing how easy it would be to intimidate and scare someone. He never wanted to do that. But when he had entered the lobby, his blood already up, and had seen this gorgeous woman, something had screamed inside him. He had seen her big brown eyes flash with recognition, and he had seen her lush, pink lips drop with a gasp. And on any other day, he would’ve relished it, relished approaching her and finding out exactly what her story was.

And then he’d seen her fucking phone in her hand. Held up as if she had just been taking a picture of him before she caught his eye and tried to hide it.

He should be used to it by now. The last girl to approach him had made her interest seem genuine and had never indicated that she followed the streaming world. It wasn’t until he caught her about to sell her photos to some online rag that she confessed she was more interested in revealing his identity to the world than she was in dating him. His anxiety had spiked then, causing him to spiral and abandon streaming for a while, until his brother helped drag him out of it. After that, Hayden swore to himself he was done with trusting strangers. He stuck to his brother and the people he already knew, keeping to himself as much as he could, and stayed away from even the online friends he had played for years, knowing that in the end they would probably betray him.

Except this woman hadn’t. She had just been texting what looked to be her sister, a young, tired-looking woman with a huge cast on her leg. An innocent text between family members that had absolutely nothing to do with him.

And Hayden found himself feeling like the villain.

He hated it, hated that he had pried into someone else’s privacy the way he had always despised. The memory of her face when she had told him about her sister, clearly not wanting to share but feeling she had no choice, was going to haunt him. And he would deserve it.

Now here he was, once again seated in this conference room he despised, the executives across from him looking like they had won a battle.

But this time, FlameThrower sat next to him.

She hadn’t met his eye since the elevator, had clearly been tensed for him to back out of their deal. But there was no way that was going to happen. Not when he had fucked up so royally.

The suits had been talking for a while, something about bottom lines and red tape that he didn’t find himself caring about. It was getting late and traffic was going to be a nightmare, so it was definitely time to wrap this up. He leaned forward on the table, interrupting whatever Brad had been about to say about procedures and paperwork.

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