Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 84289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“Noah,” I interject.
I can feel heat creeping onto my cheeks and I sip more apple brandy.
“Yo. Where’s my planner?” Noah asks, his eyes scanning the room.
“You need your planner in the middle of a party?”
“Roman just reminded me that we have to do a game of strip poker next week,” Noah says. “I need to write it down or I’ll—wait. I see it.”
Noah finally stops touching me as he points over at a table with a leather-bound planner on it.
“Grab a glass of water while you’re at it, Noah,” I call after him.
Once Niko and I are alone again in the crowd, I don’t bother to hide that I’m staring. I look him up and down, taking in his body, his tattoos, the silver necklace hanging around his neck.
He talks first.
“If you’re in Onyx Society, and I’m forced to be here too, there are only two options. We fight, or you leave me alone.”
“I think there are a few other options.”
His eyes are colder than ever.
He runs his fingers through his hair and as he moves, the bottom hem of his T-shirt pulls up a little, revealing a strip of skin on his lower abs.
I catch a glimpse of the tattoo he has there.
One I’ve seen in his videos.
And something pulses in my veins like I’m looking at forbidden fruit.
What’s it like to touch someone there?
What would it be like to put my tongue on his skin? Following the lines of that looping tattoo?
He puts his arm back down and the material of the shirt covers him again. He saw me staring.
“If you wanted me, you didn’t have to drug me, Ollie.”
“Didn’t drug you. Is that the only way you could stomach living with that silver-haired guy? Were you on drugs while you lived with him, too?”
Something different flashes through Niko’s eyes when I mention his ex with silver hair.
Like he’s spooked.
Almost like I hurt him.
For the last few months, Niko posted tons of pictures with that guy, a man who’s clearly only in his twenties but bleaches his hair into a silver-grey.
“Don’t talk about Callum.”
“You posted photos in his house. His pool. His bed.”
“Whatever you saw on Instagram, you don’t know what it was like with my ex.”
I frown. “Were you living with him?”
“I was. And I’m not anymore. And I said don’t talk about him.”
“Why not? Maybe I’ll send him a private message.”
Niko takes a step closer.
For a moment I wonder if he’s going to come at me again, but he doesn’t.
“Callum is dangerous. I’m not with him anymore. I’m here. This fucking jail cell of a house is better than the last place I was in, unfortunately. Understand?”
He stares at me for another moment and then seems to decide it’s no longer worth his time.
He shoves past me, and after disappearing into the crowd, I see him heading up the staircase.
I head up the stairs and realize that I’ve made the cardinal mistake I always make, leaving my bedroom door wide open. I can see the light coming out into the hallway from inside my room.
And Niko would know it’s my room, because on the mini whiteboard I keep on my door, Noah recently wrote “fuck machine palace” surrounded by little smiley faces.
Of course.
When I walk in it’s even worse than I thought.
He’s standing over my desk, looking down. And he has my journal in his hands.
3
Niko
Niko, filming a video 1 month ago, 3:46pm
Username: Dragonfly
I slide on my mask, turn on the camera and start filming.
If I don’t, I feel like I’ll die.
Is it possible to feel like your life is effectively over before it’s even begun?
Callum went psycho again today, punched a wall.
All because I asked if his photographer “friend” from Milan was ever going to come do a photoshoot with me. It doesn’t work like that, he told me. You’re low on the priority list, Niko.
Callum left, drove off somewhere in his Porsche, and now I’m here at his lifeless fucking mansion alone.
So I put on my mask.
I grip my cock ‘til I’m hard.
And I give myself to all of my followers, instead of the empty life that’s surrounding me.
“Very interesting, Oliver,” I say as he finally lunges over toward me and grabs the journal.
“Reading my private thoughts like they’re fucking entertainment?”
I hum. “You watch my private videos like you’re a voyeur.”
“I don’t post my journal entries on CamboyChaos, Niko.”
I like him like this.
Caught off guard, just like I was earlier. I can’t tell why he’s embarrassed, but there’s something about it that’s making my cock hard.
Or maybe it’s what I saw in the journal… which included a lot of thoughts about sex.
“That was an interesting page I flipped it open to,” I tell him. “What was that list of bullet points? Ways to break the secret: hand job, blow job, giving, receiving?”
I watch as Oliver’s cheeks get red. “Quit talking about my journal and tell me why you walked away from me.”