Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
“Right.” Champ cleared his throat and straightened in his seat. “I believe I’m the one giving the orders around here, Huxley, and Kev has shown that he can be a valuable asset on this operation several times. It’s ridiculous that he was downstairs following the same leads that we were working on, wasting time and duplicating effort, when you could be working together. So, thank you, Kev. I’d appreciate it if you could do that. I can’t imagine being in a gaming tournament room at a Vegas hotel would be all that dangerous. You’ll be our backup plan.”
I nodded solemnly and forced myself to be a magnanimous winner. One who didn’t stick his tongue out at Huxley, no matter how great the temptation.
I was on the team… sort of. I could be professional.
But when they moved on to discussing the other cartel members and how they’d attempt to gain access to each of their devices, I started feeling twitchy again with the need to lose myself online. I decided to head back downstairs and register for the qualifying tournament. That way, I could scope out the competition and strategize.
On my way downstairs, I took Rodrigo from his room and tucked him under my arm. As soon as I was comfortably ensconced in my gaming chair under my fuzzy blanket with Rodrigo in my lap, I pulled out my Horn and immediately winced at the volley of old messages waiting for me.
The onslaught had begun more than fourteen hours ago, around three o’clock yesterday afternoon.
Anomaly451: Hey, sexy! You forgot to answer my question yesterday for the article.
Anomaly451: It’s okay, though, bc you can answer it tonight. Let’s get on comms!
Anomaly451: Our Tuesday chats are the best night of the week! *heart emoji*
Anomaly451: At least until I come to Tennessee this weekend? (Please say yes!)
Anomaly451: Let me know what time you want to log on, baby doll. Can’t wait to talk to you and pick that golden brain. *wink emoji*
The next texts came a few hours later.
Anomaly451: Kev?
Anomaly451: Angel face, the system says you haven’t been on in hours. I’m waiting!
Damn it all. How could I have possibly forgotten that Adam and I had a standing chat date on Tuesday nights? I’d never had to set a reminder before since I was almost always online, and last night, I’d been so busy that it hadn’t crossed my mind.
God, he must’ve been so worried. Guilt coiled in my stomach as I continued reading.
Anomaly451: Kev, that asshole SmittyKitty is lurking around your kumquat orchard. Should I run him off?
Anomaly451: Never mind. On it. A boyfriend’s job is to protect his territory!
Shit. I guess I’d neglected to tell him Smitty and I were friendly.
But also… a brief flash of annoyance burned off some of my guilt. I knew Adam meant well, but what was it with people thinking I couldn’t handle things? It was one thing when it came to Hux worrying about me in real life—my breath caught as I remembered his hands on me before I pushed that unhelpful thought away—but there was almost no one in the world as qualified as me when it came to Horn of Glory.
And since when was my territory his?
I continued reading the old messages.
SmittyKitty: Okay, this Anomaly451 asshole just messaged me. He considers me an “enemy combatant” who’s “lurking on your perimeter” and he’s threatening to attack me if I don’t “state my purpose” in being here.
SmittyKitty: WTAF is this?
SmittyKitty: I swear to fuck, I am DONE dealing with entitled assholes today.
SmittyKitty: Oh, this keeps getting better. Asshomaly says if I’m hoping to lure you into an alliance when I’m at HOGCon, I’m too late because you’re HIS. What in the dumbfuck outlandish possessive bullshit is he spouting? You’re not going to HOGCon, are you? You never go to in-person competitions.
SmittyKitty: Whatever. This motherfucker is yapping like a chihuahua in heat. Excuse me while I explain to him in detail that he does not own HOG and he does not own YOU, Pip. *cracks knuckles*
I rolled my lips, fighting a smile. It felt a little disloyal to Anomaly that I was so excited at the idea of Smitty putting him in his place, of us being on the same side for once. I couldn’t even care about that stupid nickname.
SmittyKitty: Done. And FYI, you have shit taste in online boyfriends.
SmittyKitty: I’m here to be FRIENDLY. I came by to bring you marmalade since I know you’re low on jam right now due to the, ah… unfortunate circumstances the other day.
I snorted. Unfortunate circumstances meaning Huxley willfully destroying my jam cellar. It was really sweet of Smitty to try to make up for Huxley’s asshole behavior.
SmittyKitty: Besides, why does Anomaly think you need protection? Your weapons cache is legendary.
Yes! Thank you. Great question.
SmittyKitty: Like, yeah, I get it, you have a hard-on for the HogDoc. Take a number and get in line.