She giggled and spread it out on the bed. “No, it’s a dress. This scarf part goes around the neck and then over each breast, and the skirt is kind of a sash around the hips. There’s a cape, too, but I have to iron it.”
It was a lot more skin-revealing than anything he’d seen Taylor wear before. She normally was in jeans and a T-shirt, and while he liked that, he was rather intrigued by the flimsiness of this costume. “You wear this out and about in the convention?”
Her brows drew together. “Of course. It’s Talia Undura from the game. I’ve got her hood and everything.”
Loch vaguely remembered a hooded woman in the splash screens of the game, but all he recalled about her was bright red lips and lots of breasts. Was that who she was going to dress up as? He shifted uncomfortably, his cock making it known that he liked the idea, even if—rather hypocritically—he wasn’t sure she should wear something so revealing out in the crowd. “How do you get the sash bits to stay in place over the”—he paused and gestured—“chest area?”
“Double-sided tape!” She hung the costume—little more than gossamer wisps—on a hanger and then turned back to him. “Oh, and if anyone recognizes us and asks, you’re my boss.”
“What?”
“There’s some of my guild-mates that are going to be here, and a few folks that are in an Alliance with us on Excelsior. That means they raid with us for some of the bigger targets. Anyhow, they’ll be here and if they recognize me, they’ll ask about you. Just tell them that you’re my boss and we’re here because you’re learning about the game.” Her smile was sunny.
He wasn’t smiling anymore. In fact, he was a little offended. “Are you trying to hide the fact that you’re here with me?”
“What? No! Don’t be silly.” Her smile faded a little and then she winced. “Okay, yes. But it’s not because you’re not hot! You are.” She gave him a heated up-and-down look and then sighed. “It’s just that . . . if people find I’m here with a date, it opens us up to some tough questions that I’d rather not wrestle with this weekend.”
“What kind of tough questions?” Damn it, why was he so annoyed at the thought of her pretending they weren’t here together? He was a damned baron of Bellissime! Fifth in line for the damned throne—unless the insurgents got their way. And he was someone to be embarrassed over?
She wrung her hands. “It’s . . . complicated.”
“More complicated than trying to explain why you’re holding hands with your boss and he’s constantly staring at your barely covered tits?”
Taylor giggled, then wrung her hands again. “We probably shouldn’t hold hands, either. It’s just . . .” Her phone buzzed, interrupting her line of thought and she automatically checked it, then typed something back.
Ah. Everything became crystal clear. To Loch’s surprise, intense jealousy surged through him. “It’s that guy, isn’t it? Sigmund? The one that constantly texts and emails you? You don’t want him to know that you’re with me.”
Her face flushed bright red.
“Are you dating him?” Was this all a massive put-on? Why did the thought offend him so much? Because Taylor was sweet and unassuming and he liked that? Because he didn’t want her to be manipulative? Because he actually really liked being with her and the thought that he was being used hurt?
“What? No!” she sputtered, and then to his chagrin, her face crumpled and she began to cry. “I wish he’d go away, actually.” Her phone buzzed with another text, and another fat tear slid down her face. “Sometimes I hate him.”
Ah, hell. Now he felt like an ass. He got off the bed and went to Taylor’s side, pulling her against him in a bear hug. “Don’t cry. I’m just trying to understand.”
She sniffed against his chest. “It’s kind of a mess.”
“Then I definitely want to hear the details, because it involves you.” He stroked a hand over her hair, hugging her close.
Her arms went around him and she buried her face against his shirt. “He’s this guy in my guild. At least, I’m pretty sure it’s a guy. His screen name is Sigmund but his real name is Lynn. Pretty sure Lynn is a guy, though. He always picks male toons and talks about how he’s a guy, so I kind of believe him. Anyhow, we both started playing around the same time and struck up a friendship. He’s really lonely and doesn’t get out much, so he played a lot, and I was on while working, so we ended up hanging out a lot. I gave him my phone number one night when we were waiting for a particular boss to spawn so we could log on and go after it, no matter the hour. From there, he started texting me.” Her fingers gripped his shirt more tightly. “At first I didn’t think anything of it. He was just texting to ask if I was going to play, or letting me know that a particular item dropped. No big deal. So I texted back. Then, it seems like he’s always texting me, to the point that my phone’s constantly going off even when I’m with clients. It’s like he wants my attention constantly.”
“It sounds like he does,” Loch commented, smoothing her hair. Someone had an online crush on his Taylor. Which was sweet, he supposed, but Loch wasn’t going to hide the fact that they were together just for some prick on the computer.
She shook her head. “It gets worse all the time. If I’m not on the computer for a day, he wants to know where I’ve been. He’s looking up my online profiles—I guess he did a reverse lookup on my phone number and got my personal information. He comments on things I post on Facebook, and sends flowers to the LAN party when he knows I’m going to be there.” She shuddered.
“So he’s stalking you.”
Taylor looked up at him, her expression one of frustration and confusion. “That’s just it—I’m not sure if he is. I don’t get the impression he wants to meet. He’s been invited to the LAN parties and there have been gatherings in his hometown. People have offered to buy him a ticket to the convention here, but he never goes. He just wants me to be online with him all the time.” Her mouth crumpled a little. “All the fucking time. I’m so sick of it.”
He was surprised to hear that, given that she loved her computer games. “So stop playing? Spend more time in real life than on the computer?”
“That’s the thing. He wants me there with him.” Her fingers smoothed over his side in a decidedly possessive way. “And if I try to avoid the computer, he throws on a guilt trip.”
“So?”
“So it’s not just any guilt trip—it’s a really big one.” She sniffed again.
He didn’t see how any guilt trip could be that bad. “Tell him to sod off.”