Walk of Shame

by Gregory, O. L.

"I like how he handled Trevor. He's a good guy. But if one of the others had been there when it all went down, maybe I'd like that one just as much."

  "Or maybe not."

  "Whatever. I'm not telling you who to pick and I'm not telling you who not to pick, not really. Pick who you want, they're all good guys." He nodded to himself and stood up.

  "Where are you going?"

  "I'm going to book a flight home for either tonight or the morning, and then I'm going to go sleep this off."

  "But you just got here!"

  "I came and screened them for you, weeded out the one with real issues, and now it's up to you. No father wants to watch his little girl try to land five guys. I've done my duty. I'm headed home."

  The network put Dad on a nine p.m. flight back to Philly. He left the house at seven, having pumped himself full of coffee and tacos.

  No sooner had the sun gone down, Liam was at my door, knocking.

  This is a first, I thought as I opened the door for him. "You wanna come in?" I asked.

  He shook his head. "No, I just have a question for you."

  "Okay." I moved to step outside, to sit at the table out there, but he didn't budge.

  "You said that everyone left was someone you had feelings for."

  "That's right."

  "Am I a real contender? I mean one that has a chance to be the last one left. Because at this point, if you're having feelings for all five of us, that means I'm sharing you with four other guys, actually sharing you. I have issues with that. Real ones. I have feelings for you, big time feelings. Em, I swear to God, you just might be the one. But if you aren't feeling all your feelings strong for me, and I mean strong, just let me go home now. Because this, for me, is torture."

  "I understand where you're coming from. I get it." I glanced at the patio chairs. "If we could just-"

  "I don't want you to mistake what I'm saying," he started and took my hand. "If you're feeling it for me, I'll stay and deal with it. I'll deal and fight my way through to the endgame for you, if you're having strong enough feelings for me. But I swear to God, if you're just keeping me around to see if lukewarm feelings can maybe turn stronger, just put me out of my misery now. I'd rather go now than in a week or two."

  I stood there and watched him for a moment, waiting to see if he was done. And in waiting, I remembered that this wasn't the first time he'd needed some reassurance about his place here. Then I let the real meaning of his words wash over me. I could feel my expression turn soft and I searched his face. "You're falling for me."

  His eyes met mine. "I'm falling for you."

  "Does that scare you?"

  "It scares the hell out of me."

  I smiled, "Me, too," and I grabbed him by the front of his shirt, taking him by surprise, and pulled him into the house.

  I had been writing in front of the fake fireplace. I quickly moved my laptop and notes to the side and sat him down amongst the pile of blankets and throw pillows I'd put there.

  I watched him a moment, deciding how much was safe to tell him at this point. "Are you sure you want to know?"

  He took a determined breath. "Yes."

  "I'm just going to lay it all out for you."

  He nodded.

  "You caught my interest that first night by coming out of that limo in a kilt and pom-pom hat, complete with a sporran, playing the bagpipes. I mean, how could I not notice that? And then you put the bagpipes aside and walked around for the rest of the evening with your top shirt buttons undone, still confident enough to keep walking around in the kilt. At first, I was worried that it was your strong connection to your culture that I was attracted to, or maybe your accent. It's no secret that I love everything I know about Scotland. But I've gotten to know you over the last few weeks, and I like you. I really, really like you. You have a plan to stay mobile, you enjoy your fieldwork, and I like where that fieldwork takes place. I like the possibilities of tying our lives together. So, do I see you being around for the part where I go and see where you come from? Yes. Do I see you being around for the twenty-four hour lockdown? Yes. Hell, yes. I'm not sending you anywhere, anytime soon. I like your being here and I intend to keep you around for weeks to come."

  "You're falling for me," he said.

  I smiled. "I just might be."

  His eyes settled on my mouth and he smiled. "Then I just might stick around."

  Tuesday

  Too many late nights. That was my only thought when the alarm went off that cloudy Tuesday morning. It was drizzling, and the sound of it hitting the windows was part of this morning's conspiracy to keep me buried among the fluffy blankets and pillows on my bed. I was too snuggly to get out and jog, run, or whatever other form of morning torture awaited me.

  I reset my alarm for an hour later and rolled over. I drifted in and out, for what might have been fifteen minutes, before there was a knock on my door.

  I opened an eye and glared at the door to the hallway, wondering if it were possible that my eyes could spontaneously turn into laser beams and zap whoever was on the other side of it. But then the there was another knock and I realized that it wasn't coming from the hall door.

  I rolled over and smiled. I smiled because I knew it wasn't Troy coming to bother me. Another knock sounded, and then whichever guy it was tried the unlocked door. He slid the glass door open and then brushed the sheer curtain aside. "Emma?"

  "You know, you're lucky I figured it was you," I told Mike as he stepped inside. "If I wasn't in a gated compound, I'd have bum-rushed you when you opened the door and flipped you backwards over the railing."

  "That's what you get for leaving your door unlocked."

  "But if I'd locked it, I would have had to get out of bed to let you in."

  "Poor baby."

  "I know. And this way, I didn't have to move."

  "You're not even going to ask me how I got up onto the balcony?"

  "I know how you did it. You're Spiderman."

  "Oh, come on."

  "You climb mountains and it's a real stone facade out there. Not to mention there's a retaining wall with flowerbeds out there to help you part of the way. I could scale the wall, if I wanted to."

  "You're getting harder and harder to impress."

  "Running out of material?"

  "I'll think of something."

  I smiled.

  "Up," he said.

  "No," I responded, slightly whiney.

  "Yes."

  "It's all dark and gloomy out there, and it's so warm and snuggly in here."

  "Up."

  "Come snuggle with me," I offered.

  He was thinking about it, hard.

  "You know you don't want to go back out there and run in the gray gloom. You know you want to climb under here with me. Come on."

  "Are you naked under there?"

  "Not with the way Troy barges in some mornings."

  "Damn," he teased, and took off his sneakers before climbing in with me. "What's in the package on the dresser?"

  I looked over at it. "I don't know. I didn't even see it sitting there yesterday."

  He got up and got it, bringing it back to bed with him. "I thought maybe you were mailing something out for work."

  "No," I said as I took hold of it. "It's from Chloe." I frowned as I tore off the brown paper wrapping. I hadn't been expecting anything from her. I opened the brown box and looked inside. I'm pretty sure I turned at least three shades of red before I burst out laughing.

  Mike snatched the box out of my hands, and a small wresting match ensued as I tried to get it back before he could look inside. I lost. He fended me off as he peered inside to find the king of all personal vibrators. "Damn," he said. "That's a big boy."

  I flopped backwards onto the mattress and giggled so hard my sides threatened to hurt.

  "Do I want to know why she sent you a playmate?"

  I laughed harder. "Probably not."

  He relaxed back into the bed and gathered me closer. "I gotta know the story now.
You can't laugh like that and then not tell me."

  "I was explaining my situation to her. I think she figured this would help."

  He gave the package a dubious look. "Is that what the winner is supposed to measure up to? Because, I gotta tell you, that ain't going to happen with any of us."

  That brought out a whole new fit of giggles. "I told her that certain guys... get me a little... revved up. And that I can't really... do much of anything about it," I said, trying not to have my entire face flush with embarrassment.

  His face was trying to fight against a smile. It wasn't working. "Can't you just... take care of it yourself?"

  "Yeah, no. It's not working."

  "You've been single for a while. Don't you already have one of your own?"

  "Sure. But I wasn't going to bring it in here for production to see."

  His smile turned wicked as he pulled me closer and buried his face in my neck, teasing my skin as his lips traveled up and down the length. Then he brushed his lips over my earlobe. "Do I get you revved up?" he asked.

  A breath and a noise of helplessness escaped me as I took his face in my hands and planted my lips on his. I held and waited, wanting to see if he'd push me away, still refusing to take this step with me.

  He let out a soft groan, reached down and took off the artificial leg, letting it get lost in the blankets at the foot of the bed, wrapped his arms around me, pulling me flush against him, and took over the kiss.

  Oh. My. God. Sparks, heat, freaking lava flows are what we had together. My hands wound themselves around to his back, caressing up and down the length of play in his muscles as he rolled me under him. My hands, of their own volition, pulled his shirt up and over his head.

  His hands moved up and down my arms, cupped my face, then ran down my back to cup my rear. I moaned, he squeezed. His mouth tore away from mine and delved into the neckline of my t-shirt.

  I groaned and rolled him over onto his back, straddling him just above the hips. I attacked his neck and chest as his hands rose under my shirt to massage my back. I flicked my tongue over his nipple a few times and he yanked my shirt up and over my head, tossing it to the floor.

  He scooted me down to straddle his thighs and sat up, taking one of my nipples into his mouth. My head fell back and one of his hands cupped my other breast as his other hand reached around me to gather a fistful of the hair that draped my back.

  I moaned with longing and he pushed me onto my back, settling himself against me.

  I wanted him.

  "Kick me out of the room," he said.

  "I can't do it, I can't do it, I can't do it," I chanted under my breath.

  "You can't do what?" he asked in a harsh whisper. "You can't kick me out, or you can't do this?" he asked as he ground himself against my core through our clothing.

  I let out a mournful little whine. "I can't do this," I whispered.

  "So you're kicking me out?"

  "I don't want to do that, either."

  "You're that torn?" he asked with a grin.

  "Yes."

  He kissed me on the forehead. "Good," he said before he reached down, retrieved the artifice, made quick work of putting it on, and stood to pick up his shirt.

  "Good?"

  "Yep." He put the shirt on and tossed Chloe's package onto the bed next to me.

  "Mike!"

  "What? Now you can think of me while you use that. Hurry up, before Troy gets here." And then he freaking winked at me before leaving the room, going downstairs to leave through the front door.

  I contemplated the package for a moment before letting out a frustrated sigh and shoving it under the bed. I went to take a cold shower and get my day started.

  Troy and an MA were waiting for me when I came back out of the bathroom.

  "Just a head's up," Troy said. "There's video footage of Mike walking back up the path as we approached the cottage."

  My eyes flew to his. "Well, I guess that'll just have to be okay, won't it?"

  "I guess so," he said with a teasing smile. "At least none of the other guys will see footage of it until the show actually airs."

  "Mike and I work out a lot of mornings. It shouldn't be a big deal."

  "Yes, but we don't start filming until after I start walking to your door. So now the only footage they have is of Mike leaving your house first thing in the morning, as far as the viewers are concerned."

  "So...?"

  "So, it'll come up in the next series of interview questions, and the viewers can't know you're spending time with these guys off-camera."

  "So don't use the footage."

  He shook his head. "They'll use it just to stir up controversy."

  "They'll know he stole time with me, even though there's no footage of him actually with me."

  "Yes, but what exactly did you two do with your stolen time? That's what the viewers will be speculating."

  I made a face and directed my attention to getting ready for my date of the day.

  I went over to the main house, just after lunchtime. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," I said as I entered the living room.

  Smiles lit up all around the room.

  I stepped forward and placed the bowl I was carrying onto the coffee table. Production had assembled the five of them and told them I was coming over with a surprise. "There's a twist this week, guys. Before, I've tried to match a guy up with a date. The problem is I've ended up pigeonholing everybody. Therefore, today, I have a date in mind, but I'm leaving it up to the bowl to determine who gets it. Everyone has their name on a piece of paper. We'll choose one as the winner."

  "You haven't chosen the two getting one-on-ones this week?" Mike asked, incredulous.

  "And have people make assumptions as to why I've chosen certain ones to be first in getting a second one-on-one? No, I'm leaving it up to chance." I didn't mention that in terms of stolen time combined with actual dating time, only one of them deserved a one-on-one.

  "Well, can you at least tell us where you're going, since who's going is a surprise to us all?" Jared asked.

  "Sure," I answered. "We're going to Crafted. It's like Etsy, but in real life. All kinds of crafters have set up stands with their wares. It's totally a me kind of thing to do. I create with words, and I enjoy seeing other's creations just as much."

  "Sound's cool," Stephen said.

  "All right," Phillip said as he clapped his hands together. "Let's pick it and see who gets the easy, casual-dress date. Because I'm sure the rest of us will be tortured for the rest of the week."

  I laughed and gestured at the bowl. "Who wants to do the honors?"

  Liam looked around at the others before reaching out to pull the name. He unfolded the paper, sighed, and said, "Stephen."

  "Oh, yeah," Stephen said. He looked over to me, "I'm ready to go now."

  I nodded and turned to leave the room, but Stephen stopped me. "On second thought, give me a moment to talk to someone in production." He took off through the sliding glass doors and headed for the trailers.

  "Well, hell," I said as I stared after him.

  "What's the matter?" Liam asked.

  "I think I just lost control of this date."

  "I'd cut him some slack," Phillip said.

  "Yeah," Jared agreed. "He just found out this morning that he's the only one who's never gotten any stolen time."

  "Oh, jeez," I said.

  "Yeah," Mike said. "He spotted me coming through the brush on the path and stormed into the kitchen to tell the others."

  "Oh, my God," I said with a chuckle.

  "That's when I said that Jared and I stole an evening," Phillip said. "And then Liam mentioned trips to the hot tub. And Mike told us about the movie."

  I smiled. "Trevor liked to steal midnight swims before Liam started showing up."

  "Now he's pissed that he's been following the rules this whole time," Jared said with a smart-assed smile.

  "He's the one that got extra one-on-one time early on when I snuck over to this pool
. Did he figure that I was the only one allowed to make up their own rules?" I asked.

  "I think so," Jared answered.

  "I'm not going to get to go to the craft place, am I?"

  "I'm sure that if you don't, you'll find a way to steal another date this week," Phillip said with a wink. "You'll go one way or another."

  "All right," Stephen said as he breezed back into the room, "let's go see your craft store, then there's been a change in our dinner plans." He took my hand and led me out of the house.

  "It's not just a craft store," I said as we approached the car door.

  "Whatever you say." He opened the door and gestured for me to get in.

  I waited until he'd shut my door, walked around to the other side, and got in before saying anything else. "Is this your take-charge side?"

  His smile was rueful. "I wouldn't want you to think I didn't have one. Something like that might only get me invited for 'one more go around'."

  "Are you going to disagree that we started out strong, but then we've fizzled in the last couple weeks?"

  "Well, no, but if I would have known I was the only one following the rules, we could have been simmering behind the scenes."

  "You're not the only one who was following the rules. You're just the only one left who was." I stopped talking when he tossed me a look. I think he and I were both wondering, again, what the hell it said about me that I was slowly narrowing my choices down to rule-breakers only.

  "At any rate, we'll go see the crafters and talk about other people's expressions of creativity, if that gets you all excited." He flashed me a wicked grin. "But afterwards, I'm going to show you what gets me all excited."

  I burst out in laughter. "I can't wait to see this," I said, and meant it.

  The crafts were amazing, and if I'd had a full-sized home to decorate, I would have walked away having purchased a few pieces. But, as it was every time I visited a place like this, I had to settle for looking and not touching.

  We'd been given a little lecture by production to stop talking about the rule breaking. They wanted footage they could use. Nearly every bit of conversation on the way over had been unusable, except for snippets here and there. If it got out that there were a number of encounters off-camera going on, there'd be hell to pay from the fans. So when we got back into the car, we steered to more appropriate conversation topics.