Page 9 of Now Streaming

“I will not be revealing my face. I want to make that clear.”

Dylan, formerly Shark Eyes, leaned back in his chair, a little disgruntled and not meeting Hayden’s eyes. But Brad was already nodding.

“Of course. Your identity is your own. Bleeding Sword is simply happy to have DeathsHead in the tournament.”

“I’ll send you my specs for the setup. I’ll need a private entrance and a private room. I shouldn’t see anyone else on my way to and from.”

Brad nodded, jotting down a note on his iPad, then glanced at the woman next to Hayden.

“Ms. Hayes? While we’re talking about setups, is there anything in particular you’ll need?”

She cleared her throat and Hayden couldn’t help how aware of her he was. She sat next to him, but there was a gulf of space between them, something she had made sure of before she sat down. But Hayden could still smell her perfume, the light floral teasing his senses as she did everything she could to ignore him.

“I’ll need a private dressing room, a place I can change into my persona before the tournament so that I can enter and exit unnoticed.”

“But you’re fine to be on camera?”

“Of course.” Her voice was almost cold, a little detached, and Hayden remembered vaguely someone talking about some photos of her that had circulated a few months ago.

He didn’t keep up with streamer gossip, preferring to simply play games and then work on his own projects, but now he was annoyed he hadn’t looked into it more. There was something behind her answer that he didn’t understand, and he suddenly wanted to. Very, very badly.

“What about accommodations?” Her voice was all business, and Hayden felt it itch at something in him. That mouth that had told him to fuck off, that had whispered in his ear, was now grilling these suits like she’d eat them for breakfast, and Hayden couldn’t deny it was making him hot.

“You’ll both have rooms at the hotel near the convention center.”

“We’ll want rooms away from where the other streamers are staying. For privacy.”

Min raised her brow at Hayden’s use of “we,” but she didn’t contradict him. He got the feeling she wanted to avoid the other streamers, too.

“Done,” Brad said. “We’ll book the rooms under whatever pseudonym you would like. We can also assist you with your travel.”

Hayden looked to Min for confirmation. After a short hesitation, she nodded. “That would be great.”

“Excellent. Is there anything else?”

She turned to Hayden, her eyes on his, waiting for something to happen. And Hayden realized she was waiting for him to back out, to say no, to reject the deal they had made and to leave her high and dry. Now that he knew she was FlameThrower, he knew why she wanted him at the tournament—their rivalry was popular among their fan base, and their streams together were always the most successful and the highest rated. She tensed, and Hayden could tell she was holding her breath. She needed this.

And hell, if he was being honest, Hayden wanted her there. Of any of the other streamers Hayden had played with, FlameThrower was the one who actually had a chance to beat him. She made the game more fun just by challenging him.

But Hayden wasn’t going to make it easy for her. If he was going to do this, stream for a big tournament at the biggest fan convention in the world, he was going to go hard. The money from the win and the sponsorship would speed up his plans and goals considerably.

Which meant he wasn’t going to let her win without a fight.

Hayden quirked an eyebrow at her, which she glared at. He didn’t know if that was because she sensed what he was thinking, or if she was just glaring, but he was finding he didn’t care as long as she was looking at him.

“Well?” she finally asked. No, demanded.

“Ready if you are, babe.”

CHAPTER4

MIN

Min hated being late.

She raced through Union Station toward her train, dragging her small carry-on behind her, trying to read the signs for directions while she raced by them. In an effort to miss traffic to Kimball, she had booked herself a seat on the train heading south, hoping to get some reading and emails done during the four-hour trip. She had taken the train to Kickoff many times in the past, and had always loved how relaxing a journey it was, loved watching the glimpse of the ocean outside the windows as they rolled past. After the last month of settling Devery into their mom’s house and driving her back and forth to her doctor’s appointments and physical therapy, Min had actually been looking forward to unwinding for a few hours by herself, lost in the crowd of the train.

But that relaxation was looking harder and harder to grasp. She had missed the subway she had meant to take downtown, which meant she had to wait for the next train, throwing off her schedule. She could feel the slow passage of time leeching out of her, eating at her anxiety that she was attempting to breathe through. By the time she reached Union Station, she only had minutes to spare, so when she finally spotted the sign pointing her to the platform she needed, she sprinted.

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