Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
But I was no closer to knowing why he wanted me.
While a large part of me wanted to be strong, wanted to be the heroine, the other part knew what was most important was being smart.
And sometimes smart women played stupid and weak to get men to do what they wanted.
Stupid and weak weren't my strong suits, but everyone could pull it off if they tried.
Before he could see me, I silently slid down, pulling the blanket around myself, pressing my hands into my eyes like the headache was still crashing through my skull.
"Ow ow ow ow," I whimpered, going for as pathetic as I could, which wasn't too hard given the situation.
"Did you take the medicine?" he asked in a voice as bland as his face.
"What happened?" I cried. "Where am I? Who are you?" I went on, still pressing my hands to my eyes, hoping he took that for the reason I didn't know who he was.
"Hey, hey, it's okay. You had a seizure. I... I saved you," he told me. "It's me, Kit."
Kit?
Kit didn't ring a bell.
Except.
No.
No way.
My head shot up, my hands falling, taking a good, long look at him again.
I didn't know a Kit.
But I did know a Kit Kat. Who talked back.
KitKatTalksBack.
The first friend I had met in the gamer world. My first real viewer, fan, friend.
Who was supposed to be female.
Right?
Or had I just assumed that?
I racked my brain for anytime they told me their sex, or even alluded to it, but I came up with nothing.
I just thought it was a girl.
I spoke to him like I spoke to girlfriends.
I shared ridiculously intimate stuff I would only tell girlfriends because guys wouldn't be able to handle it.
Like how heavy my period was one month.
And a tip I'd found out to prevent razor burn when shaving your vag.
I'd talked about my exes, about who was a two-pump-chump and who could get me to the apex. And how.
I'd discussed favorite vibrators when I was between men.
Oh, God.
God.
That was just... humiliating.
I never would have told him any of that if I knew he wasn't a girl.
"What's the matter?" he asked, jaw getting tight. "Not what you were expecting?" he asked, tone a bit rougher, offended, maybe?
"I, ah, I thought you'd be older," I said, hoping it was the best cover. "You have always been so, ah, wise." Wise was good, right? Or was it offensive to tell a young person you thought they'd be older?
"I had to grow up fast," he said, nodding. "How's your head?"
"It hurts," I lied, making my eyes smaller.
"Did you take the pills?"
"I did. Twice. Sometimes, they're not strong enough. I usually need sleep. Sometimes coffee," I said, giving him a weak smile. "But thank you for thinking of it."
"I remember that one seizure. It was scary to watch. It wasn't as scary in person."
Yeah, because he'd been expecting it. Because he'd caused it.
"I'm sore all over," I said, uncomfortable when he kept staring at me, seeing the crazy in his eyes, not wanting to know what he was thinking about.
"I was trying to carry you out of danger. I, ah, you fell. Maybe more salads in the future," he said, giving me a weak smile like he'd told a joke.
A joke.
No, calling or insinuating someone was heavy was never a joke. It wasn't funny.
And, well, fuck him. I was perfectly fine weight-wise. The asshole.
Was that what was in my future? Limp lettuce and water to try to get me smaller, weaker, easier to handle?
God, I refused to become one of those chicks that guys keep in their basements for decades, dressing them up, having dinner parties, taking advantage of them.
Fuck no.
I just had to play along in the hopes that he took me out of this room. I needed to get my bearings, figure out how to get away.
I just needed to bite my tongue and be smart for a while.
"How long have I been out?" I asked, keeping my voice low, whiney.
"Couple hours. It's fine. We have all the time in the world."
"I didn't realize you lived in Florida," I said, making small talk, trying to stay on his good side.
"I didn't until about a year ago."
A year?
He'd moved here to be closer to me?
How long had he been watching me? Planning to take me?
"I felt weird telling you at first. I didn't want you thinking I moved here because of you." I wouldn't have thought that since I thought he was a she and we were good buddies. I probably would have been excited since I had pretty much no real-life friendships. Then, what? I would have walked right into this situation blindly, willingly? "I got a job here," he added, making excuses. Because, chances were, he'd been looking for a job in Florida.
"Oh, nice. I would have been happy to know. We could have met up for coffee."