Stevie’s strides are quick as she makes a beeline to our table. You wouldn’t be able to tell there was anything wrong if not for the way her manicured hands are angrily gripping the tray.
She tosses out an apologetic smile. “Sorry, can I—”
“Are you alright?”
“What?” Her smile freezes for a second. “Oh, no, I’m fine.” She weaves around to Parker and places two new champagne flutes in front of him before plopping straws in them.
“It’s like you read my mind.” He immediately picks up one flute and shoves the straw under his mask.
She tilts her head towards Jackson’s empty martini glass. “Another cosmo?”
Jackson silently shakes his head.
Stevie hesitates before twisting her body toward me. “Another whiskey?”
“A double.”
Her nod is short, and it prickles in my chest. No matter how she tries, she can’t hide the fury that is simmering behind her eyes. I have no clue what that asshole said to her, but it’s set her off.
“And we are back!”
Her honey eyes rip away from my gaze as she pulls back and makes her way to the edge of the event hall. The niggling in my chest only gets stronger the farther she gets. I get up to follow her when Jackson tugs on my jacket sleeve and nods toward the stage. My eyes slip to Adrian as he brings the microphone to mouth.
“I was fortunate enough to receive the Golden Vazer Award two years ago and am so excited to present that award this year to one of my good friends. The Golden Vazer is awarded to those who have created a legacy within the streaming community. They are a pillar for other streamers look up to and have used their career to shape a new path for us to follow. They have made an impact growing their brand, elevating their content to new heights, and leaving their mark on viewers.”
I sit back down as I watch a video compilation of my streams and events make its way across the projector—something I’m sure Sydney approved beforehand.
“Please welcome to the stage the winner of this year’s Golden Vazer Award, NightBlade32, or as we all affectionately call him, Blade!”
I really wish I had that second whiskey right about now.
I get up and hug Parker and Jackson before making my way to the stage. A few people try to clap me on the back as I pass them. I jog up the steps, and Adrian shakes my hand and claps me on the back before the woman next to him hands me the shiny award. Finally. I reach into my pocket for my Sydney-approved speech and look out into the crowd. I can barely see anything through the glaring stage lights directed through my mask as I rattle off my thanks. It’s a little more put together than the other two speeches I’ve given tonight. I make sure to thank my fans before focusing on what my journey has been like as a content creator and streamer over the years. I give a shout out to Parker and Jackson—well, English and Shield. There is also a line thanking Sydney and another for our manager, Mathias.
They allowed me five minutes for this speech since it is one of the bigger awards, but I’m finished in under four. I close out the speech with my classic, “Blade, out,” tagline. Freedom sings as I go to hop off the stage and return to the safety of my table. The award girl stops me, tapping my elbow and guiding me backstage instead, away from the blinding lights and the crowd. But not before I spot Daniel-fucking-Decker pulling a reluctant Stevie around the corner to the bathrooms and out of sight.
FIVE
* * *
STEVIE
Well, this is shit.
It’s just my luck that there is someone here who not only knows Chase, but also knows that I broke up with him.
I stare up at the redhead as he tugs me around the corner and away from the award ceremony. I could step on his foot or pull myself out of his arm and run back, but I have no doubt in my mind that he would spend the rest of the night trying to find a way to pull me aside. I don’t want to cause another commotion tonight.
“I heard Chase cheated on you again.”
“I heard you’ve been ignoring him.”
“What would he say if he saw you here tonight like this?”
Goosebumps break out over my arms as I remember his warm, vodka-soaked breath in my ear. Gross.
“Why don’t we chat in here?”
My lip curls as he proceeds to open one of the storage closets. I recognize it as the one I’d grabbed extra cocktail napkins from earlier. It’s small; you wouldn’t be able to fit more than three, maybe four, people in here at a time, and even that would be snug. The two yellow lights on the ceiling render the room in a somber tone. The walls are lined with wooden shelves that house various event items like tealights, straws, tablecloths, and, of course, cocktail napkins. The guy drags me fully inside before kicking the door shut.
“Look,” I pause, realizing I never caught his name.
“Daniel.”
“Right.” I roll my wrist in his grip. “Look, Daniel. You’re attractive and all, but as you pointed out, I just broke up with Chase, and I’m not really looking to get into bed with anyone else right now. So, whatever you think you’re getting out of this, you’re not.”
It’s a lie. I really want to get laid. I could use a good dicking down after all these years. Daniel’s definitely attractive, but not my type at all. I would much rather go for a round with the hot masked guy instead.
“Trust me. I’m not looking for secondhand goods, Stephanie.” I feel my right eyebrow twitch up at the insult. “Although, even when Chase was screwing a different girl every weekend, he constantly said you were his favorite. That he could always count on you to bend over for him.”
Well, if I wasn’t already planning on never getting back together with Chase, this just sealed the deal. It’s one thing to talk about your sex life with your close friends, but I’ve never even heard of Daniel a day in my life. Which means Chase has been slutting me out to anyone who will listen. Probably acting like his penis is some magical nine-inch wand. Just wonderful.
“Well, unfortunately for Chase, I will no longer be bending over for him.” I narrow my eyes at him, trying to give him my best bitch stare. “I don’t know what you want, Daniel, other than to stand here and insult me about my ex, so let go of my damn wrist.”
His eyes flicker to the door before he tightens his grip, the pressure painful now. Panic lances through my body. Oh, hell no. I’m not dealing with this shit. I don’t think he is going to try anything shady, but I’ve heard one too many horror stories to risk it. I shove my free hand into his chest before bringing my shin up to collide with his balls. I hear the breath woosh out of his chest as he curls forward, and I spin my wrist out of his grasp. Free, I turn to grab the doorknob. My hand slips, fingertips brushing over it, as I feel Daniel grab my dress and pull. He mutters something, but I miss it as a shocked yelp escapes my throat.
“What the fuck?”
I’m about to have an all-out brawl with this guy in the storage closet.
I’m such a dumbass. Why did I even let him drag me this far?
Fucking Chase.
“Well, this isn’t the bathroom.”
Daniel and I both go still at the new voice, his hand turning slack. I turn around and come face-to-face with a bright red light. Relief floods my body, and I lurch forward to grab Blade’s arm. He quickly maneuvers me behind him, and I keep clutching his bicep. His very toned, muscular bicep, from what I can feel.