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What happens when your best friend is pouring shots because you have a broken heart? You end up signing up for a reality TV show against your will.
I’m not looking for love. (Been there, done that. The pain isn’t worth it.) I certainly don’t need the drama of lust. Especially when there are eleven other people involved. But since I’m here, I might as well play the game.
But the game’s stacked against me in the form of two gorgeous men, both vying for my attention. Suddenly I have a decision to make. One’s in it for love, the other for lust… but which one?
I want to trust them, but can I even trust myself?
This could be my second chance at love, or they could be acting for the cameras. And If I don’t choose right, I could leave even more broken than I arrived.
“I have a feeling things are going to get crazy with the cameras off for the day,” Lennon says appearing next to me and leaning against the bar with one arm. Jace is busy making my drink, so Lennon takes advantage of the situation and reaches down, taking my hand in his and giving it a light squeeze.
Twenty minutes later and I’ve been thrown in the pool and Jace is lifting me onto his shoulders. “Let’s go!” he hollers, challenging Lennon and Drake again.
Bella climbs on Lennon’s shoulder, causing a pang of jealousy to course through me, while Courtney is hoisted onto Drake’s shoulders, a sinister smirk on her face.
Well, hell. Lennon may have been onto something. No cameras. No inhibitions. Let the games begin. It may be the last day I get to play.
Courtney and Drake go down first. I have a feeling they were both preoccupied. Bella, on the other hand, seems to be a strong player when it comes to water fighting. She doesn’t back down, and Lennon and Jace are more than happy to let us do all the work. In fact, neither of them helps.
We wear ourselves out, declaring it a tie instead of continuing on. Tipping myself backward off Jace’s shoulders, I sink to the bottom of the shallow end of the pool and then float there for a few minutes, staring up at his face as he watches. When I finally emerge, pushing my hair out of my face, he pulls me close to his body and wraps his arms around me.
“I want to kiss you, Presley,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear. “I won’t do it in front of everyone else, but I’m warning you that I will kiss you before either of us go home, even if that’s all I get.”
A shiver runs up my spine at the thought of Jace’s lips against mine. Would they be warm? Soft? Would I invite him in without thinking?
I’ve been kissed before by multiple people. Gage wasn’t the best, but he wasn’t the worst either. I can only imagine Jace would be more skilled, more in tune with how to sweep a woman off her feet with nothing more than the brush of his lips against mine.
And I want to find out exactly how skilled he is. Here and now. I also know it isn’t a good idea for a reason. Sure, the cameras aren’t rolling, but there are still eyes on us. Ten sets to be exact, one of those belonging to Lennon.
I can feel his stare boring into my back as Jace holds me. Jace is making his move, in front of Lennon, and taunting him in the process. Which only means one thing.
Lennon will make his move as well. Maybe not today, but soon, if he’s given the chance. If I’m not sent home.
(c) 2020, Rachael Brownell
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