Page 15 of Griffin (Pecan Pines #3)

Chapter 15

Michael

I checked the time on the corner of my laptop screen. Thirty minutes left before Griffin got back.

Perfect—just enough time to wrap up the stream.

“All right, guys,” I said into the mic, leaning back slightly in my chair. “Let’s do one last hunt before I end the stream. If anyone wants to join, just copy the lobby code on the screen.”

The party filled up almost immediately, little avatars popping in one by one with familiar usernames.

I restocked my character with potions and supplies, fingers moving on autopilot, and launched into the hunt with my viewers.

As the game loaded, I glanced at the chat bar. The messages were flying by too fast to catch everything, a blur of text and emojis, but I tried to pick out any questions or comments I could respond to.

“Have you eaten yet?” A comment stood out, simple but oddly endearing.

“Yeah, I’m grabbing dinner right after this,” I replied with a grin, eyes still on the chat as I prepped my character. “A friend of mine’s dropping by with some pizza, so it’s all good.”

The chat immediately lit up with playful remarks.

“A ‘friend,’ huh?”

“Pizza AND company? Sounds sus.”

“Michael has friends now? Jk jk.”

I chuckled, shaking my head but not bothering to elaborate. Chat could have their fun. I focused back on the hunt as the game finally loaded.

The balancing act began. I dodged incoming attacks, timed counters, and kept half an eye on the chat.

The familiar rhythm of it all was soothing: block, strike, glance at messages, repeat.

I wasn’t playing my best tonight—getting hit more often than usual, mistiming dodges—but for once, I didn’t mind.

Normally, I’d push myself for perfect runs, muttering curses under my breath if I messed up. Tonight, though, I let the mistakes slide.

The engagement felt more important. It reminded me of the old days, back when streaming was simpler—when I’d spend hours laughing with viewers and responding to every single comment, no matter how small or silly.

A pang of nostalgia crept in. Those days felt distant now, buried under months of anxiety. Things had shifted the moment they showed up.

The stalker.

The chat had once been a source of comfort—my community, my escape—but when the messages started appearing from mforever018 , everything changed.

At first, it had just been unsettling. A username popping up too often, comments that seemed oddly personal. But then they escalated.

I’d withdrawn after that. Streaming had turned into a minefield.

I barely interacted with chat, too scared that any new name or comment might be from them again.

And when I did see their name, it hit me like a punch to the gut every time.

To cope, I threw myself into the gameplay. Perfect runs became my armor, something to hide behind. I drowned out the noise—ignored the chat, ignored the creeping anxiety—and just played .

But tonight felt different. Easier. Like I could breathe again, even if just for a little while.

Then I glanced at the chat again and caught sight of mforever018 .

They were there. As always.

I hesitated, my eyes lingering on the name longer than I meant to. A part of me used to block them instantly—hit that ban button the moment they popped up.

But somewhere along the line, I stopped. Blocking them just felt... pointless. Like it gave them exactly what they wanted: my attention. My reaction.

Besides, it was exhausting. Every time I banned the account, they’d pop up again under a different name.

At least this way, I didn’t have to play the guessing game, trying to figure out which new user was them . It was easier to leave them there in plain sight, like a monster I could keep track of.

I could almost feel the weight of their presence through the screen, even without the usual messages flooding in.

My heart thudded a little faster, but not from fear. More like... caution. I knew they were there, watching me, and part of me wanted to confront them—call them out.

But the other part of me? The part that had grown too tired of the whole damn game? I just wanted them to stay quiet for once.

And yet tonight, I didn’t feel the familiar knot in my stomach. No cold sweat, no tightening in my chest.

Maybe it was because I’d finally started letting my life expand beyond gaming.

For the first time in years, I wasn’t streaming every waking hour or obsessing over analytics. Griffin’s presence had helped with that.

Working at the bar, having someone around—it all made the stalker feel less overwhelming. Like they weren’t the center of my universe anymore.

It wasn’t that the fear was gone. But it was quieter.

Out of sight, out of mind—at least for now.

The victory jingle chimed on-screen just as I heard the low rumble of Griffin’s truck pulling into the driveway.

Perfect timing.

I exhaled slowly, leaning back and flexing my fingers to shake off the tension.

It hadn’t been my best performance—I’d even died once during the fight—but my viewers didn’t seem to care.

“Great game, everyone! Before I log off for tonight, I’ve got a couple of quick announcements,” I said into the mic, my voice steady even though my hands were a little less so.

I pulled up the notes file I’d typed earlier. The bullet points glared at me from the corner of the screen.

I’d done this before—made announcements, faced my audience—but it never got easier. There was always that nagging sense of being judged, scrutinized.

And tonight, it wasn’t just the usual nerves.

They were watching. He was watching.

Every word felt like a trigger, like one wrong tone or pause might set them off.

I scanned the chat briefly, the messages still racing by, and swallowed hard. I could feel the weight of mforever018 lurking in the background, even without looking directly at their username.

Just as I started to speak, Griffin’s truck door slammed shut outside.

The sound grounded me. My shoulders relaxed a fraction.

I held onto that for a beat, then pushed the distraction aside and refocused on the stream.

I cleared my throat. “First off, I want to thank you all for being here tonight. It’s been a while since I’ve done a proper community stream like this, and I really missed it. You guys make this so much fun.”

Griffin’s footsteps thudded lightly against the porch, and when the door opened, our eyes met. He stepped inside, holding up a pizza box with a small smile that said, I’m here .

I couldn’t help but smile back. Just like that, the tightness in my chest eased a little.

“All right,” I continued, turning my focus back to the screen. “Now, onto the big stuff. I wanted to let you all know that I’ll be taking some personal time over the next few weeks. So, for a little while, I’ll be cutting back on streams and videos.”

I paused, scanning the chat for reactions. As expected, there were a few sad emojis and disappointed comments, but the majority were encouraging:

“Take all the time you need!”

“We’ll still be here when you’re back!”

“You deserve the break, Michael!”

Their kindness took the edge off my nerves, and I let out a breath, my shoulders loosening. But then I saw it:

mforever018 : Personal time? Does that involve the guy I saw you with at the ice cream shop in Cinderfield the other day?

mforever018 : Is that the same friend you’re having dinner with?

My breath caught, my smile wavering for just a moment before I forced it back into place. How did they know?

My mind whirred, replaying that afternoon at the ice cream shop, trying to remember if I’d seen anyone watching us.

I kept my voice steady, pressing on as if I hadn’t read the message. “I know I haven’t been as active lately, but I promise I’ll make the streams we do have really fun and worth your time.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Griffin approaching. He must’ve noticed something in my face—a flicker of unease I hadn’t managed to hide.

Silently, he stepped behind my chair, his calm presence grounding me as his fingers brushed lightly over the nape of my neck. The touch was so quick, so subtle, but it was enough.

The chat exploded. Messages flooded in faster than I could read, and the preview window in the corner of my screen showed me why—Griffin, leaning slightly into frame, was visible just behind me.

“Oh no,” I muttered, hitting the mute button on my mic. I twisted in my chair and shoved him playfully. “Hey! They can see you! Later, all right?”

Griffin grinned, holding his hands up in mock surrender as he stepped back. “My bad,” he said, his voice warm with amusement.

He crossed the room and set the pizza box down on the coffee table, just like he always did after my streams.

I unmuted, shaking my head with a smile. “Sorry about that, everyone. Uh, where was I?”

A quick glance at my notes brought me back. “Oh, right. The next big stream we’ll have together is the Shadowfall: Requiem public beta launch. If you’re excited to try it out, make sure to catch it—we’ll all finally get to play it together!”

The chat lit up with excitement, messages scrolling too fast to read.

I felt some of the lingering tension melt away, replaced by relief. The buzz of game hype was familiar, comforting even.

“That’s it from me for tonight,” I said, waving to the camera. “Thanks again for hanging out, and I’ll see you all next time. Take care, everyone!”

I ended the stream and leaned back in my chair with a heavy sigh. The screen was blank now, but mforever018 ’s messages lingered in my head like an unwanted echo.

Ice cream shop. Dinner. They were watching me everywhere.

But then I turned and saw Griffin on the couch, casually setting out plates like it was just any other night.

He glanced up, caught my eye, and patted the cushion next to him with an easy grin.

For tonight, I decided, the stalker wasn’t going to rent any space in my head. Not when Griffin was here.

I dropped onto the couch beside him and flipped open the pizza box. The smell hit me like a hug—cheesy, greasy comfort, exactly what I needed.

I grabbed a slice and took a big bite, deliberately focusing on the food instead of the weight of Griffin’s gaze.

He wasn’t saying anything, but I could feel it.

Fine. Two could play that game.

I leaned back against the couch, feigning a nonchalance I definitely didn’t feel, and shoved another bite of pizza into my mouth.

As expected, Griffin broke first.

“So, what was that about taking personal time?”

“Hmm?” I mumbled through a mouthful, biting back a grin as I chewed like I had all the time in the world.

He frowned, unamused, though his patience hadn’t completely cracked yet. Almost.

I shrugged. “It’s exactly what it sounds like. I’m taking a break.”

“Are you... going somewhere?” His voice was careful, like he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.

I laughed, finally swallowing the bite I’d been milking for all it was worth.

“What do you think?” I smirked, and before he could argue, I swung my legs over his lap, settling comfortably against him.

His arms slid instinctively around my waist, pulling me close, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And just like that, the world felt steady again.

“Well, I just had to be sure, you know?” Griffin said softly, his fingers tracing slow, aimless patterns along my bare thighs.

“And why do you think I asked Todd to help pack a bag of my things?” I teased, leaning back just enough to study his face.

Griffin’s brow furrowed slightly at Todd’s name, but his hand didn’t falter.

“Didn’t have to go all the way to Cinderfield for that,” he muttered, voice dropping a little. “Could’ve just bought you some new clothes, you know.”

I huffed a quiet laugh, shaking my head. Griffin’s possessive streak wasn’t subtle, but somehow, it never felt stifling. It was... comforting, even.

My fingers traced along the vein in his forearm, an absent-minded touch that settled into a light hold.

Still, I knew what he meant. I didn’t have to go all the way to Cinderfield.

And I definitely didn’t have to get tangled up in that weird situation with Todd. I hadn’t expected him to act the way he did—clingy and controlling.

At first, I’d brushed it off as stress. Todd handled so much for me, after all, and I’d leaned on him more than I realized.

But no. That wasn’t it.Griffin’s word for Todd stuck with me: possessive.

It was a hard truth to swallow. Maybe I hadn’t seen it because I was too close, or maybe I’d just chosen not to.

But now… it was different. Griffin meeting Todd had made it impossible to ignore.

“You okay?” Griffin’s voice pulled me from the spiral of thoughts, his hand pausing on my hip.

I nodded, brushing my hand against his cheek, my thumb grazing the rough edge of his jaw. “Yeah,” I murmured.

Griffin leaned in, closing the space between us, and his lips met mine in a slow, deliberate kiss. The moment stretched, every other noise fading—Todd, the stalker, the world itself.

Griffin had this way of grounding me and untethering me all at once. With him, I could just be .

His hand slid higher up, heat lingering in its wake. My breath caught, my mind blanking for a second, lost in the weight of his touch. Then his fingers crept closer to the hem of my shorts, jolting me back.

“I want to shower first,” I murmured, pulling back just enough. “I have gaming sweats.”

Griffin groaned, dropping his forehead to mine. “Fine,” he muttered, though his hands didn’t move.

Instead, he shifted, lifting me off his lap with infuriating ease. “We’ll shower together then. It’ll be faster.”

“Wait—what? That’s not what I meant!” I yelped, laughing as he stood, pulling me up with him like I weighed nothing. “Griffin!”

“Too late. You suggested it,” he shot back, already steering me toward the bathroom.