Page 31 of Stream Heat
“Pretty big talk for someone who’s been benched for a month,” he shot back, but his tone was gentler than I remembered. Softer, like he knew exactly what it cost me to be here.
“Please. I’d wipe the floor with you with one hand tied behind my back.”
“Then prove it. Right here. One v one.”
He said it like a challenge and a dare. Our eyes locked, and suddenly, I couldn’t remember how to breathe. My hands tingled, and something unfamiliar clenched low in my belly.
“You’re on,” I managed, twisting back to my screen to set up the game. “Prepare your apologies for the audience.”
Even as I queued up the match, chat kept spiraling:
bet they’ll be bonded by next stream
this is packmate energy
look how she looks at him now
I tried to shut it out. If I couldn’t control my biology, at least I could control the game. At least, that’s what I told myself. But from the first second, it was obvious I wasn’t the same player as before. My reflexes dragged, the medication slowing me down and my senses a mess from Reid sitting so close. I missed shots, fumbled reloads, got caught in easy traps.
He could’ve crushed me. But he didn’t. He started slowing down, too, opening up obvious shots, letting me score when no one else would have. Only a pro would’ve noticed. He made it look like a close game, but it was him making me look good on purpose.
On the last round, I landed a clean kill and ended it. He groaned dramatically, like I’d just upset the balance of the universe.
“Still got it,” I said, hoping the camera didn’t pick up on how I was fighting to keep my hands from shaking.
“Beginner’s luck. Stream’s gonna love that.” He was grinning, but there was that glint in his eye again, something I didn’t have a name for.
the way he looks at her tho
pack bond in real time
it’s happening isn’t it
I faced the camera. “So there you have it, chat. Quinn and Pack Wrecked: the most reluctant partnership in gaming history.”
Reid arched a brow. “Reluctant, huh?”
“You have a better word for it?” I shot back, but it sounded weak.
He leaned in, voice dropping to something that buzzed straight down my spine. “Inevitable.”
The word landed like a physical thing between us. Chat went completely feral, but for a second I couldn’t read any of it, too busy trying not to look away from him.
At that moment, a sharp knock broke the spell. Malik stepped in, holding a glass of water and my little orange bottle.
“Sorry, but it’s break time. Doctor’s orders,” Malik said, completely unfazed by the weird energy in the room.
Reid frowned. “It’s been two hours already?”
“An hour forty-five. The doc was very specific.”
I wanted to argue, but I was running on fumes, feverish, head spinning, my nerves sparking and frayed. Maybe the meds were supposed to help, but withdrawal didn’t care about schedules.
“Sorry, chat,” I managed, and pasted on a smile. “Gotta take my meds. But I’ll be back tomorrow, same time, same chaos.”
“Such a tease,” Reid said, but his eyes were on me, scanning for weakness.
“That’s the Quinn promise, never satisfy, always leave them wanting more.”
