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Chapter Thirteen

Arlo

Has any human ever hated the weekend, time off from work, or downtime? For the first time in my life, I’m in a conundrum. I have never liked more than one person before. Since my mortifying blow job experience, I haven’t actually had feelings for anyone, yet now my thoughts are consumed by multiple women. Aspen has been working by my side and she has a brilliant mind. Then I have my online buddy—the mouthy, fiery woman I look forward to playing with each night—but I really don’t know a great deal about her. And then there’s my latest obsession, my masked woman, who I know is just an online fantasy, but she is still someone I can’t stop thinking about.

“Arlo, what the fuck?!” UrNewStep_Mom yells down the mic. “I thought you had my back.”

“Shit, sorry,” I say. Logically, I know I should shoot my shot with Aspen. But then I think, what if she doesn’t go for nerds like me? Then we’ll have to work together and shit will get awkward. UrNewStep_Mom has become my sounding board, so maybe she can offer me some insight. “My head is somewhere else.”

“Who are they?”

I laugh. “A girl from work. I barely know her, but it’s rare to find someone so beautiful, smart, funny, and into gaming.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” She cackles at herself. “I’m kidding.”

“There are so many variables. If I ask her out and she says no, we have to work together, and I don’t like awkward encounters. What if she has a boyfriend—am I making an ass of myself?”

“Then maybe you need to spark up more personal—but not too personal—conversations to find out more about her. Ask about her job before she started there, or what she did over the weekend. Surely if she has a boyfriend he will come up.”

“You’re too good to me.” Her laughter bursts through the headset. “Hold up, my phone is ringing.” I answer on speaker phone, not caring that UrNewStep_Mom can probably hear. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Arlo Kross? ”

“Speaking.”

“This is Marcus from HideNSeekHottie’s management team. I’m calling to let you know you have been chosen to take part in one of her videos. Please check your emails and fill in all the forms. You will receive a text message with the time and date. Make sure the consent form and hard limit forms are returned as soon as possible.”

“Um, okay, thank you.”

Marcus ends the call and UrNewStep_Mom screams in my ear. “Holy shit, isn’t that what you were hoping for?”

“I never thought they would pick me. Not if you saw the video I submitted.” How is this my life? Everything feels like it’s too much and I need to breathe. “Hey, I need to go. Can we chat tomorrow?”

“Sure, get some rest and congrats.”

I remove the headset, then rush toward my bathroom. I twist the faucet and use my hands to catch the water, splashing it on my face.

Holy shit, what have I done?!

This isn’t me; I don’t take risks. The wildest thing I have ever done is apply for a job at Ridgeland. I don’t apply to be chased by a masked woman or chat to strangers on the internet the way I talk to UrNewStep_Mom, and I sure as fuck don’t think about hitting on someone at work. I’m broken and always have been. While I thought I had a handle on things, clearly I do not.

Once I calm myself down, I check my emails, and the forms are just as daunting as I expected. They inform me that for her safety there will be at least one male masked man present. I’m surprised when they ask my comfort levels of being touched by them, and if interested, how far I would go with a man.

I fill it in honestly. I’m not opposed to the man being involved—I don’t know if I have hard limits, but I have a safe word I can use if I think things have gone too far. For privacy reasons, I won’t know who the people are behind the masks and must consent to that as well.

Giving myself a pep talk is a hell of a lot easier when I’m blazed. Since starting at Ridgeland, I have cut down. It’s my dream job and I no longer feel the need to sit around wasted all day.

“Arlo,” Mom calls down the stairs.

“Coming,” I yell back.

It’s her night off and we always eat together, though we never keep regular hours, so it’s not unusual for us to have dinner at ten o’clock at night.

When I get upstairs, she has containers of Chinese food spread out. “Hey, baby. What’s wrong?”

I sigh, unable to hide anything from her. It’s the downside of being a loser with your mom as your best friend. I just have to figure out how to explain this without actually explaining it. I tell her a lot, but my sexual fantasies are definitely not a topic I’m comfortable talking about with her. Even though I know I could, that she would be supportive, she would also want to talk about them in depth and that’s where I draw the line.

“I have been given an opportunity to do something I have always dreamed. I’m scared I will fuck it all up. ”

She looks at me and purses her lips—it’s something she does when she’s thinking. “Do you have to quit your job to do it?” I shake my head. “Then my advice is to go for it. You only live once and you don’t want to get old like me and have regrets. We are given our twenties to enjoy life to its fullest. If you fuck it up, who cares? You will still have your job, and you will always have me and that girl you play your video games with. She seems to have become a part of your life, though I still think she could be an old man trying to befriend you. The internet is full of perverted people.”

I snort. “She’s not a man. With how protective her roommates are, I’m pretty confident she is a beautiful woman and they’re afraid I’m the old guy in the basement.”

“It’s not far from the truth.”

“Mom!” I say in shock.

“What?” she says with a chuckle. “You do live in the basement, by your own choice. There’s a perfectly fine bedroom up here.”

She keeps teasing me, and we eat until we are so full I couldn’t possibly eat anymore. By the time I head back down to my room, I feel a lot better about my decision to take part in a video, especially when sex is up to the discretion of all parties. The filming is just the chase, and the forms did state that unless I used my safe word, there could be some minor injuries—I suppose it covers their ass. There is also a payment which is determined by how much the content makes, and a bonus if she exceeds a certain number of views .

The date will be set once I send in my blood panel to check for diseases and a background check is performed, both of which I consented to undergo. The View4U app is very strict about who can appear on their content creator channels, and one creator complained she couldn’t do more sexual content because the process takes forever to be screened. I guess it’s better to cover your ass, and Ridgeland is even strict when hiring new staff. The amount of videos I had to watch on how seriously they take their privacy, plus all the forms and NDAs I signed, was overwhelming.

To avoid making myself sick with worry about whether I’ll be laughed at for my inexperience, I decide to jump into a mindless game, one where there are hundreds of teenagers talking smack. The best way to deal with them is to beat them all and laugh at them. Is it petty at my age? Yes. But does it make me feel better? Also yes. If their parents don’t like it, maybe they should monitor what their kids are playing on the internet.

Anxiety plagues me. Earlier I received a message that I will be sent the details of a location tonight. I have been off my game, and I think Aspen knows because she has been watching me carefully for the last half an hour.

“Are you okay? You seem weird today. Not weird weird, but different to your normal self.”

I chuckle—she acts like me when I try to talk to girls. “I’m fine. Didn’t sleep well last night.”

I hate lying, but I’m not about to tell her I’m hoping some masked stranger likes the way I look enough to fuck me. It makes me sound desperate, even if I kind of am. Girls like Aspen don’t fall for guys like me. I see the way the bosses look at her and have noticed how they pop down at least once a day, pulling her aside to chat. Men like them get women like her.

My phone pings with an email notification, and I open it to see it’s another email from Zeland.

Subject: Still impressive. Still distracting.

Hey Arlo,

I’ve been watching your progress—on the game, of course. I’ve got to say... you’re making quite an impression. Theo is already singing your praises, and even Ridge hasn’t found something to grumble about yet. That’s basically a standing ovation coming from him.

You’re doing so well, and it’s honestly becoming a little distracting. Every time I walk past your office, I catch myself wondering whether you’re this good at everything you do. Dangerous thoughts, I know.

Keep up the amazing work. And maybe let me steal a minute of your time soon? For strictly professional reasons. Probably.

Zeland Reid-Ellington

COO | Ridgeland Enterprise s

I blush as I read it. Zeland doesn’t even work on this floor, but he comes down to see Aspen, or so I thought. I don’t reply, I can’t. Risking this job is not an option.

I need to distract myself, and that’s when I remember what UrNewStep_Mom said about starting a conversation with Aspen, and while she may not be into me, I need to learn to talk to women without going bright red or saying something weird.

“Did you do anything fun over the weekend?” I ask her.

She shakes her head. “Not unless you count doing online shopping for new clothes with my roommate exciting. I prefer a good thrift store find. Why are new clothes so itchy and you have to wear them in?”

Interesting, her roommate helps her shop. “I’m guilty of letting my mom shop for me still.” I feel my cheeks heat as soon as I say it. What woman in their right mind would not see that as a red flag?

“I wish my mom was around to shop with me. You’re lucky if you have a good relationship with her.”

“When I tell people she is my best friend, they normally laugh, but it’s always just been us against the world.”

She smiles at my words. “Keep her close, and fuck anyone who says different. They clearly never had a good parent-child relationship. I’m so glad I at least had a grandparent fill that role.”

The door to the room opens and Mr. Ellington walks in. I straighten my spine, feeling inferior to the man who screams wealth and power .

“S—Aspen,” he says, almost barking at her.

“Mr. Ellington, what can I do for you?”

I hear the tease in her voice. She normally calls him Ridge, but he got pissy and now demands she call him Mr. Ellington at work.

His jaw goes tight. “Have you seen Zee at all today?”

“Can’t say I have. You haven’t seen him anywhere, Arlo?”

I shake my head.

“He stole my fucking shoes.” Both Aspen and I look down, and Aspen laughs at his socked feet. “He left me these sorry excuses for shoes.”

He holds up a pair of chucks and I sheepishly look down at my own worn pair.

“How can I go to a meeting wearing his shoes?”

She smirks at him. “You have an assistant, right? Ask her to go get you a new pair.”

That makes him chuckle and smile at her. I don’t think I have ever seen the man smile.

“Mine are custom-made, and I won’t send a random woman to my house.”

“Hmm, it sounds like you’re in a real pickle. Maybe you need to hunt down Zeland—I mean Mr. Reid-Ellington—or wear his shoes. I happen to think a man in a suit with chucks is hot.”

“Somehow, I don’t think Ford Wells will think I’m hot.”

“Would you like me to call him and see if he will tell me where he is? ”

Ridge nods, and Aspen pulls out her phone and holds it to her ear. He must answer because she smiles.

“Where are you?... Oh, I know you did. He is here, annoying me while I’m trying to work... It’s irrelevant if he’s hot when he is mad. He has a meeting with Mr. Wells and needs his shoes... How much caffeine have you had today?” She lowers her voice. “No, I will not repeat that. Unlike you, he can actually fire me. Stop laughing, asshole.”

She ends the call. “Sorry, he said, and I quote, ‘You are being an uptight and overbearing asshole and need to loosen up.’ And apparently he knows exactly how to make you loose.”

I suck my lips into my mouth as Ridge runs a hand over his face. “I’m going to murder him. And you are required upstairs in an hour.”

She raises a brow at him.

“Ford’s fiancée would like to meet you,” he grumbles. “Don’t ask questions—this is all Zee’s fault.”

She shrugs. “Fine. I suggest you find Zeland and make him eat something. He has a case of severe crackhead energy today.”

I laugh and Ridge cuts me a glare, so I avert my eyes to anywhere but him, which helps to calm my nerves. Instead of listening in, I busy myself with tasks that need to be done.

“Sorry about that,” Aspen says. “Being friends with the bosses has its downfalls.”

“You’re friends with them? I thought maybe you were seeing one of them. ”

Aspen bellows out a throaty laugh. “Oh god no. Me in a relationship? I’m a walking red flag and I have commitment issues out the wazoo. And I probably have daddy issues as well. I’m too headstrong to deal with things I’d rather avoid, plus my anger issues could be a major problem. I honestly think there is something wrong with me.”

“You seem fine to me,” I say, fiddling with the controller in my hands.

She smiles at me. “That’s because you only see me in my happy place. Wait until I’m pissed off—I throw punches first and ask questions later. Though everyone I have ever punched deserved it. I don’t hit innocent people.”

I have never met a woman like her before—the kind who doesn’t throw herself at the rich men and talks to me like she wants me around. Most women look down at me like I’m some sort of loser they were dumped with just because I’m obsessed with video games, watch way too many animated TV shows, and love my mother.