Matched

by Angela Graham

“There you are. Where you been?” she asks, sipping her beer.

  “Took a nap. Look, Jasmine needs help. You in?”

  She looks mildly offended, already nodding her head. “Of course.” She searches the area and asks, “Where is she?”

  I point to the stairs. “Up there—and not alone.”

  Callie hears all I don’t say, already taking the stairs two at a time.

  “No fucking way!” Callie gasps when we push open the unlocked door to the Posh Suite. It’s gorgeous and massive, with a California king four-poster bed in the center, lush cream carpet, and crisp white furnishings that scream high class.

  What doesn’t are the sloppy moans and running water coming from behind the door on the side wall. It’s propped open halfway, and Callie and I both draw closer. We peek inside, then rear back just as quickly. I’d call it a bathroom, but it’s more an immense tiled room with a grand whirlpool built into the far corner.

  “Shit,” Callie grumbles, pulling a hair tie from her pocket and yanking her hair up. “You ready? Can’t let her do this.”

  I nod, unable to block out what we saw. Brandi straddling Ian’s lap in the tub, her dress already gone, Jensen stepping out of his pants to climb in and join and Jasmine, our sloppy-drunk but dear friend, sitting on the edge of the tub and slouched against the wall with Brandi leaning over, kissing up her leg.

  “Yeah.” I suck in a lungful of air and fling the door all the way open, making an unannounced and slippery entrance. Water splashes over the tub’s ledge in one big wave when Jensen sinks in, causing bubbles to smother the floor. I brace myself with one hand on the wall, not wanting to fall on my ass, and shout, “Jasmine!”

  Her glazed eyes struggle to pry open. She’s so out of it.

  Jensen lurches back, creating another plunge of water that sprays the floor.

  “Glad you decided to join us after all.” Brandi wiggles from between the two men surrounding her. Ian starts to groan in protest until he finally notices we’ve crashed the party.

  “Jas, let’s go!” I bark at her, but she’s out again. Her eyes fall shut, and her head rolls to the side.

  “Fuck yeah. Come here, sweet thing.” Ian is up on his knees, the extreme amount of bubbles the jets are creating barely covering his erection. He reaches out for me and I slip back, attempting to grasp at anything as I slide down to the floor, landing on my ass and smacking my back against the merciless tile.

  “Fuck!” Callie screams, rushing at me as two hands snatch her around the waist and drag her into the tub. “Harlow!” she yelps, throwing her elbows back to get in a hit at Ian behind her, holding her hostage.

  I sit up as fast as I can, my body revolting. I notice Jasmine’s now hunched over, completely passed out. Jensen’s laughing at the show of Callie fighting to break free from Ian’s clutches, her entire body immersed in the water.

  “You ready for a real man?” Ian taunts her, stroking a finger down her neck.

  “Get your hands off me!” Callie shoves harder and he finally releases her, chuckling.

  “Sorry, hot stuff.” Ian raises defensive hands. “Just thought you wanted to play too.” He’s still grinning and staring at her breasts, which are showing through her soaked white top.

  “You’re a piece of shit!” Callie howls, attempting to climb over the ledge.

  “Ah, my bad,” Ian snickers. “Let me make it up to you.”

  “Just let her go.” Brandi pouts.

  Callie’s halfway out of the tub when I call for her. “I’m coming!” I wince from the pain that scorches up my back, attempting to stand on the slippery floor. But before I can make it to my feet, I see forceful legs stride across the room as if not in a flood. In no time, Callie’s snatched the rest of the way out of the tub effortlessly.

  “I got her.” Oakley’s there, holding Callie around the waist and guiding her back to dry carpet. He starts to turn back for me but sees I’ve already crawled my way out, standing when I reach the dry surface.

  His attention returns to Callie. “You okay?” he asks her, sweeping a long, wet strand of hair from her cheek.

  She nods, a mix of appreciation, adoration, and what looks like guilt in her eyes when they cut my way. “Thanks,” is all she says before backing away and disappearing into the hall.

  There’s no denying what I just saw—the worry for her on his face—but that’s not what matters right now. I rush to the bed, tug off the comforter, and drag it into the bathroom, ignoring Oakley’s scowl.

  Jensen is kissing Brandi outside the tub, and Ian’s climbing out to join them, oblivious to my return. Guess that’s part of the adult industry…blocking out what’s going on around you.

  With a makeshift rug created to safely cross the floor on, I rush in and freeze when I hear a violent roar.

  “Move the FUCK out of the way!”

  One glance back reveals it’s not directed at me. Only Oakley and a wide-eyed cameraman are standing in the suite, with their attention focused back at whatever ruckus is happening in the hallway. But my only priority is Jasmine. I’m hoping she’s just passed out and not actually suffering from alcohol poisoning.

  I’m suddenly lifted, turned, and set back in the suite by Oakley. He’s moving me out of the way for Adam, who managed to push his way into the room that’s now blocked from most of the cast and guests, all watching from the hall.

  I say nothing. I’m thankful Adam’s here, but terrified at the fire in his eyes and impenetrable rage framing his body as he enters the bathroom.

  “Jasmine…” I move to go after her, but Oakley steps in front of me.

  “He’s got her.” Oakley blocks my line of vision, but I hear Adam roar, “You son of a bitch!” then the slam of something hard. I peek around Oakley to see Jensen crumple to the floor. Adam’s fist is driving downward over and over again, and Ian’s unable to pull him off.

  Oakley sprints in to help and I rush to Jasmine, adjusting her dress that’s riding up her thighs and pulling her against me.

  “Jas, wake up.”

  She moans, her eyes unable to hold themselves open.

  “It’s okay,” I console her. “We’re gonna take care of you.”

  “Tired,” she slurs in a whisper as her body falls against mine.

  From the corner of my eye, I catch Oakley saying something in Adam’s ear, and Adam’s head springs up milliseconds before his body does. I’m actually proud that whatever Oakley said, it persuaded Adam to stop. Brandi and Ian are hunched in a corner like caged animals.

  “Get the fuck out of this house!” Adam shouts, and they scurry past him, slipping and sliding until they reach the blanket and can hightail it out. “You come near her again and I’ll destroy you both!”

  Adam doesn’t say a word to me, but his expression is a grateful one as he lifts an unconscious Jasmine away from me and up into his arms. He carries her past a groaning Jensen, who’s now attempting to sit up.

  “Just…fun,” Jensen spits out with a mouthful of blood. “She likes…”

  Adam stops mid-step and looks down at him, eerily calm. “You don’t know shit about what Miranda likes, or what she wants. She’s not your goddamned toy. And if you so much as speak to her again without my permission, I’ll fucking kill you. Understand me?”

  Jensen nods slowly.

  “Pack your shit—you’re going home!” Adam announces, then storms out, ignoring the cameraman filming it all. I follow him back to the suite, watching the group of people in the hall part for him.

  “Oh my God.” I drop my head in disbelief of what just unfolded, my next words aimed at Oakley. “You think she’ll be okay?”

  “Fuck if I know!” Oakley wails, and I raise my head to find him angrier than before. “It’s her own fault. What the hell did she think would happen up here?”

  “She had too much to drink! She’s going through a lot!” It comes out louder than I’d intended, a buried anger reemerging. “You don’t even know her, so stop being a dick!”

  “
What do you want me to say, Harlow?” A vein in his neck pulses. “Poor little porn starlet got herself piss drunk and put Callie in danger!”

  “So that’s it? Only Callie’s safety matters and to hell with Jasmine’s? Not to mention I almost broke my back on that floor!”

  He sighs, a hand sweeping over his face. “What do you want, Harlow? ’Cause it sure the fuck isn’t me, so why the hell do you care?”

  Too bad I’m not able to keep my temper as in check as he can. I need to release all the pent-up resentment. “I did want you, Oakley—more than anything! But now look at you. You’re acting like an asshole!”

  “Really, an asshole? Why? Because I made friends with another girl, or because I’m not happy about getting dumped on TV?” He’s losing hold of his temper again now; every vessel in his forehead’s popping out.

  “Be upset all you want, but you’re supposed to talk to me—work it out, so we can get through it together—not ignore me!”

  “What the fuck is there to work out, Harlow?” His eyes flash with rage. “I loved you—wanted to marry you. You didn’t, apparently. Seems pretty cut and dry to me.”

  “Bullshit. You know I loved you, but I’m not going to spend my entire life as your precious little slave!”

  “And that’s how I made you feel?” Hurt crosses his features, but doesn’t stick. “Well, then, I’m glad as fuck we ended things. Heaven forbid I want you at my side. I may be acting like an asshole right now, but you’re being a delusional brat! You know I would’ve supported your career or schooling or whatever you were doing. You just had to keep me in the know.”

  “Of course.” I cross my arms, ready to put it all out there, consequences be damned. “Like you did when you invited your mom to travel with us?”

  His expression darkens. “Don’t bring her up again. She loves you, and you made it clear to the world how you felt about her!”

  “What, because I don’t want to be stuck in hotels with her? Nobody wants that with their future mother-in-law!”

  “I swear to God, Harlow, you mention her again, continue to hurt her feelings—because you know she’ll watch this—after she’s spent years rooting for you and me, I’ll never speak to you again!”

  “Fine! I don’t need you to. You have Callie and Nadia now.”

  “I don’t have Callie! We’re friends. And Nadia? What the fuck are you on?”

  “I saw you kissing her!”

  “Correction, she kissed me, and I pushed her away immediately. I haven’t touched anyone in this house other than you. And don’t you dare stand there looking all holier-than-thou!”

  “I haven’t kissed any—” I stop myself short.

  “Yeah, remember now? They showed me your little grotto scene. Pathetic, really.” He moves impossibly close. “How does it feel to get shot down with the world watching? I can’t believe I ever thought you were special.”

  My hand stings before I realize why. He doesn’t so much as flinch from the slap, but I’m already stumbling back. The tears are uncontrollable, and regret plagues my emotions.

  “I’m s-sorry,” I stutter, but it’s too late. He’s already walking away.

  Confessional: Nadia Minkin

  “You hear that? It’s madness in this house! Absolutely crazy. Vait…I think…da, sounds like the screaming stopped. Thank goodness. I svear, these people need straightjackets! In my country, ve’d lock them all avay and toss the key. And my poor Pierce…he’s already in cab returning to airport, leaving me here to fend for myself.

  “Ve tried to use the Lounge, but he couldn’t concentrate vith all the people scurrying around in the halls like rodents. Too many people here; I vant them all gone! No more exes, no more bitches. All need to go avay. Okay, maybe you leave Oakley, though. And Court’s okay—he’s friendly, and has nice ass. Cruz’s rude, but sexy, so he may stay too. But the rest all need to vamoose.

  “Too bad Rachel not here to see Adam tonight. He nearly killed people not moving out of vay fast enough. You probably seen it—vun minute Adam’s outside looking at papers vhen all you hear is vun of those bitches call for Jasmine. He looked like a murderer trying to get up the stairs…but too many people in this house, I tell you! Cruz stayed vith Emma, of course. I svear, he’s like a guard dog! But vhen ve heard Harlow shouting, he snapped to it also.

  “I think they have bad taste in their voman, but that’s their choose. They are both too mean for me to care for. So that leaves my soulmate to be either Court or Jensen. Oh, yes, or Miles but…I think not. Did you hear he told Rachel off before she left? She vas my friend in the house but not very pretty, so I think I may not call her vhen I go home. Ve shall see.

  “Okay, now I vant to check on the outcome upstairs. Vish me luck!”

  Chapter 23

  The longer I stand here—with everyone judging and eyeballing, all whispering in hushed gossip—the harder it is to breathe. The cameraman right in my face fades in and out as tears cloud my vision. I’m swallowing, my body shuddering out all the poison inside me, when someone grabs my hand and tucks me gently into his side.

  I don’t have to look to know who it is. His smell, the comfort that exudes off him…Cruz.

  “MOVE!” he demands of the cameraman.

  My arms wrap firmly around his waist, my head burrowing into his chest. He moves us forward, bumping into a few people until he finally stops. I don’t want to back away and leave the security of his embrace, and he doesn’t try to make me. So I stay there, clinging to him as I release every cooped-up emotion this house has invoked.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” He strokes his hand down my spine, and the other draws me closer. “Shhh.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, finally finding the words. “I’m sorry.”

  And I am, for all of it: slapping Oakley, hitting on Cruz, and most of all for ever coming on this damn show in the first place.

  “Everything’s going to be all right, Harlow. I promise you.”

  “No, it’s not.” I’m shaking my head as I step back, my gaze cast at our feet as I sniffle away the last few tears. I’ve cried enough for the cameras.

  He cups my cheek, raising my head so I’ll look at him. “Harlow, why don’t you go lie down? Sleep it off.”

  “Wh…what?” I stumble back. “I’m not drunk!”

  “I know, but you should try to sleep.” He goes for my hand but I’m faster, yanking it away. “No. I need to find Jasmine…Callie. I need to make sure they’re okay.”

  I spin around, and regret it instantly. I may not be drunk, but my head’s still fuzzy and my back’s aching. One step is all I take before he stills me with a hand on my hip and another at my back causing me to wince.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, lifting up the back of my shirt. His fingers trace over the tender flesh that hit the tile.

  “I’m fine,” I say over my shoulder. “Really.”

  “You need an icepack.” He drops my shirt after one soft caress. “It’s already swelling. Did you hit your head too?”

  He grasps my shoulders and turns me to face him again, his eyes searching out any other possible injuries.

  “No, just my back,” I whisper, enjoying his compassion far too much.

  “Come on, let’s get you into bed and I’ll go grab you an icepack. Up easy,” he barely warns me before I’m swept into his cradle hold with a gracefulness that actually comforts my back rather than aggravates it.

  “Where’s Jas—”

  “Adam took her away from here…not sure where, exactly, but I’m not concerned. He knows what he’s doing.”

  He carries me farther down the hall past a few of the exes, who only stare. “Well, I’m concerned! Where? Is she all right?” He sets me on her bed, knowing I’m unable to climb up to my own.

  “Pretty sure she’ll be out all night. Don’t worry, Adam checked her breathing and pupils when he got her out of that room. He’ll stand vigilant over her, I promise.”

  “He hit Jensen,” I say as a disturbing flash of the sce
ne replays in my mind. “A lot.”

  Cruz kneads the back of his neck, looking away. “Don’t blame him one bit. Somebody fucks with someone I care about—takes advantage—I’d do a lot worse.”

  “Right,” I say numbly. “I don’t know what happened in there. I…I slapped him. I’ve never hit anyone before—especially someone I care about—but he…I mean, I…”

  “I know. Try not to think about it tonight.”

  “How is it possible that, a few weeks ago, I thought he was the love of my life, and now I can’t even feel it?” My voice trails off into a shamed whisper. “I care about him, but…I don’t think I…it’s not the same anymore.”

  He squats in front of me and takes my hands. “Will you do me a favor?”

  I nod, blinking away beckoning tears.

  “Turn your mind off tonight. It’s gonna eat you up, and you need to rest. So I want you to promise me you won’t try to overthink it all right now. Can you do that for me?”

  I’d do anything for him with the way he’s looking at me right now, the sweetest glisten in his dark eyes.

  “Okay.”

  “Good.” He stands. “Thank you.” He walks back to the door.

  “What happens now? With the show, I mean.” I’m afraid to ask, but I need to know.

  “Honestly, I don’t think anyone’s clear on that.” He walks through the door and begins to pull it shut. “Get into some dry clothes, and I’ll be back in a few. And Harlow? You should’ve come and found me to go up there with you. I wouldn’t have let you get hurt.”

  I feel my face heat at the sincerity in his words. “Thanks. Guess I didn’t realize how badly it could play out.” I stand, grimacing as my muscles stretch. “I can get the icepack. I need some fresh air anyway.”

  “Not happening. Don’t want you hurting yourself more.”

  My mouth opens, and I’m ready to chew him out for insinuating I can’t handle myself when his eyes light up.

  “Tell ya what. Let me grab it, and I’ll meet you by the pool.” Then he leaves, giving me no chance to protest.

  I sit back down on the bed gently and release a languid sigh. Adam’s sending Jensen home, which I was unaware he could do, Jasmine’s gonna have the world’s worst hangover tomorrow, and Callie’s…well, I have no idea.