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I pause and glance in his direction, eyes narrowed. “Are you stalking me?”
“Of course I am.”
“That isn’t as comforting as I think you mean it to be.”
We’re quiet for a few more seconds until I sit up and stare down at him. Oliver doesn’t move, except to look at me with a wide emerald-eyed look of sweetness that looks so real that I want to believe it. But can a serial killer really besweet? Or has this all been just an act?
“I don’t have another job,” I agree finally, letting out a long breath. “That's all I have. I was hoping to save up before I graduated, so maybe I don’t have to work at a gas station.”
“You could ask Rook for money,” Oliver points out lazily. “He’d give it to you, if you aren’t comfortable—”
“But that’s part of the problem, Oliver. I’m nervous to stream, because you’re both watching me. But it’s not just that. I just feel like things havechanged. Things aren’t the same. I started streaming—” I break off and swallow my words before trying again. “I started streaming because I watched you, and you were so fucking hot. You are so good at it that it’s unreal, and maybe I was a little in love with you the first time I saw you.”
“Are you still?” he asks, blinking a few times as he shifts to get more comfortable on the cemetery grass.
“You kill people.”
“Irrelevant.”
“What?”I lean over him, as if he isn’t hearing me or just isn’t understanding. “What do you mean, irrelevant?! It’s incrediblyrelevant, actually!” How can he not see that? How can he not understand that the whole crux of the issue balances on the fact that he, Oliver, is a fuckingmurderer.
“I would say I’d stop for you,” Oliver admits, flicking his fingers dismissively in the air above his chest. “If I could, I would, I think. But I can’t. It’s not just something Iliketo do. It’s something Ineedto do.”
“It’s weird that you’re telling me this.” I sit back on my hands nervously.
“Is it?” he hums, twisting his body like a cat. “I like you a lot. I’ve liked you since I saw you, but even more when I sawyoustream. You’re so much better at it than me. I’d also tell you I’ll stop watching you. That I’ll ask Rook to, as well. But…” He shakes his head. “We’d worry about you too much. I’m notjealousor anything like that. I love that you make men so horny for you it’s unreal. But I see the way they bully you, and I’d worry too much not to step in. Sorry, Blair.” He gives me a cocky half smile.
I let my shoulders fall. “Whatever. It’s fine. I mean, it’s notjustyou. I’ve been off this week, and with men demanding more and more of me, I’m not sure what to do. I love the money, but I don’t know if I’m cut out for it. In order to make real money, I feel like I’d have to do something more. Or find a way to stick up for myself better. I can’talwaysrely on you and Rook.”
“You could,” Oliver points out. “I’d let you.” When I don’t reply, he sits up and leans over me, gesturing for the camera. “How did they turn out? I want to see.”
Wordlessly, I pass over the camera, watching as he goes through the photos and shows me his top ten. Afterward we both stand, and Oliver stares at me, unashamed and not trying to hide it, as I fumble with my camera to get it back in my backpack.
“I’ll help you,” he says finally, reaching out to tuck my hair behind my ear again. “Can I help you with your stream?”
“Not if it’s killing someone.” I hesitate, and then add, “Unless it’srob784. Fuck, I can’tstandhim.”
“He’s pretty much in love with you,” Oliver informs me gravely. But he hums thoughtfully and shakes his head. “No, I’m not sure. But give me time. I’ll figure something out and get back to you tomorrow, okay? You’re an excellent streamer. You’re good at this, and you could make more money at it than you do now, I promise.”
“You’d really give me some tips, or some help?” I ask, and before I finish, Oliver is already nodding enthusiastically.
“Absolutely. Consider it the first part of me making up the whole kidnapping thing to you.” Hebeamsat a couple that walks by, and they smile back uncomfortably. “Let me think about it, Blair. Tomorrow we’ll have an awesome game plan that’ll have you back on your game, come hell or high water.”
“Okay,” I agree slowly, letting him brush his fingers against my arm. “If you say so, Oliver.” He leaves after that, wishing me a good night. For a while longer, I stand in the cemetery and think that maybe, perhaps, I’m getting myself into more trouble than I would’ve been in if I hadn’t said a damn thing.
Chapter 21
The knock on my door sends my stomach plummeting to the floor. It has to be Juniper; I figure. I’m certainly not expecting anyone else on Halloween, especially. As with most years, she’s out at a costume party, and I’d told her I’d be home binging kids' Halloween movies instead.
That, of course, had been a lie. But not one I’d thought she’d catch me in.
When another knock comes, it registers that Juniper wouldn’t beknocking. But I haven’t ordered food or anything, so I still don’t know who it could be. But I need to get rid of them if I’m going to stream in ten minutes.
I bolt to the door, barefoot and dressed in just my running shorts and tee over my usual lingerie. My fox mask is on my desk, ready to use, and I close the door to my room just in case my houseguest needs to come inside.
When I pull open the door, relief and nervousness both flood my system, and I suck in a breath.
Oliver stands there, grinning, with a backpack over one shoulder and his hair tousled like he’s just rolled out of bed. “Hello,” he greets sweetly, stepping in without a direct invitation from me. “Sorry, I’m a little late. I wanted to be here a half hourago, but Rook stopped me, and, well...” he trails off with a grin. “Better almost late than never?”
