I look around. “Um.”
“I think you just fell asleep standing up,” she says, sounding impressed.
“Like a horse?”
She laughs. “Sure. Like a horse. A stud. A sexy, sleepy stallion.” Her voice is kind of echoing in my head. Which probably isn’t great. Maybe I should go to bed.
“I think they’re called microsleeps,” she says, pushing my shirt off my shoulders and sliding her hands over my bare chest. “Hey, don’t they say if you’ve stayed awake for three days, you can claim insanity in court? Wanna go rob a bank after this?”
Something tells me that’s not right. “I’m not that tired,” I tell her, and then stare at her suddenly naked breasts. “When did you take your top off?” My eyes follow the soft, white curves of her freckled body. My mouth waters.
She giggles. “Wow. You are awreck,honey.” She kicks off her shorts, then turns and switches on the shower. I watch her lean thighs and tight, muscled butt as she stretches to test the water temperature. “You need me to take off your pants too?” She says over her shoulder.
I blink back to reality and shove off my joggers and underwear. I’ve got that weird, disconnected feeling I always get when I’ve been staring at a screen for too long; like the real world is a video game, and my body is just a character I’m controlling. Steam starts flowing into the room, andBeth takes my hand, leading me into the cubicle. “It’s fine,” she murmurs, pushing me against the steamed-up tile. It’s cold against my back as she turns the gentle spray to a hot, flooding downpour. “Just relax.”
I want to protest, but my brain feels heavy, and all of my muscles are softening to plasticine under the hot water. She pours some soap into her hand and lathers it up into a soft foam.
I close my eyes and tip my head back against the wall. “You’re a dream,” I mumble. “Dream-girl.”
“Mm. That’s me. Dreamy AF.” She bends forward and kisses my chest. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispers. “You’ve worked so hard. And you’ve done so good.” She starts massaging bubbles into my chest.
“You don’t know that,” I point out, frowning as anxiety seeps through me like acid. “I know I missed something.” I always miss something. No matter how hard I try, if I pour every ounce of myself into a project, I can never, ever get it perfect. It always ends up flawed.
I rub my eyes. Fuck, I didn’t re-check the coding for the background of the Emerald Lagoon scene, the waterfall graphics are probably going to keep glitching, and now everyone is going tosee—
Small, warm hands cup my cheeks, and golden-brown eyes burn into mine. “Stop it,” Beth says, kissing me firmly. “Baby, you do realise that your bad days look like most peoples’ good days, right? You got this.”
“How do youknowthat?”
“I’m familiar with your work,” she reminds me. “I finished Legend of Azaran last week.”
I double-take. “You did?” I know that she checked it out, but I didn’t expect her to play it the whole way through. I thought she was just being supportive when she downloaded it.
She nods. “Been playing it while Cami naps. It was incredible. But I hate you for putting that maze in.”
I laugh. “The trick is to draw the maze out as you go,” I explain. “If you get some graph paper, you can keep track of the rooms with keys or traps. If you’re not keeping note, you don’t have a chance.”
“Yes, well, I worked that out after about two hours.”
“Or,” I say, picking up a wet red curl, “if you’d talked to the cartographer in level eight, he would’ve given you a map.”
Her mouth falls open. “Are you kidding me?”
“All of the puzzles have multiple solutions, Beth.”
“But—I thought he was a red herring! His dialogue was just pointless backstory!”
“Sure. But I wouldn’t programme an entirely useless character. If you’d listened to him ramble on for a few minutes, he would’ve been so grateful, he’d have given you the map for free.”
She pinches my hip. “I spent hours on that stupid maze, you smug bastard!”
I laugh and dip my head to kiss her. My feet somehow slip on the tile, and she squeaks as my body presses against hers, pinning her to the wall. Her wet cleavage squashes against my chest, and I wince as I feel myself hardening against her soft stomach.
“Ugh. Maybe you’re right. I do need to sleep.”
She hums, flattening her hands on my chest and pushing me back into the wall. “Don’t worry about it,” she whispers, kissing my stomach. “Just relax.”
I don’t have much choice—I’m completely drained. I slump back against the tile as she kisses her way down my body, her wet skin sliding over mine, until she finally drops to her knees between my legs.