by Aubrey Dark
“You really like this guy, huh?” I asked.
She didn’t say anything, only nodded.
God, I was an awful person. She was the one who deserved Dylan, not me. I didn’t deserve anyone. That was why I couldn’t find my Mr. Right—because I didn’t deserve it. I sighed and tugged Kate to her feet.
“Come on, we’re going to be late.”
Piers and Dylan were sitting in the living room in front of the big white couch. I avoided looking at either one of them as I sat down on the couch with the other contestants. Behind Piers, the crew had set up a video/audio monitor. It showed all of us sitting on the couch.
I remembered the auditions in the TV studio where I’d met Piers to do the interview. All of the nervous girls lined up in a row. That’s how it felt now that we were down to five contestants. Now that I actually had a shot, I was nervous.
“Let’s talk about your one-on-one dates yesterday!” Piers said. The audio echoed softly through the monitor speakers, his British accent drifting through the air twice.
He’d missed a spot on his chin when he shaved that morning, I noticed. I stared at that one spot of stubble as he talked, focusing all my attention there. He and Dylan went over the day.
“How do you think your date went, Kate?” Piers was asking. I turned to see Kate swallow hard.
“I—well, I was nervous,” she said. “I think I was holding back.”
“I could tell that you were holding back,” Dylan said. He was nodding, his expression very serious. This was serious for him, I realized. He was trying to find a good girlfriend for himself. I felt even worse.
“Did you have any bad dates yesterday?” Piers asked Dylan. I noticed that there were circles under Piers’ eyes, and they had put on more makeup than usual. He looked hungover. When he glanced over at me, I turned my gaze to Dylan and tried to listen to what he was saying.
“Probably… the dinner with Mia.”
“No offense,” he said. “But I really didn’t like the food, and it just wasn’t very fun.”
“I was trying to be romantic, not fun,” Mia huffed.
“And Heidi’s date at the poetry thing.”
“You didn’t like that?” Heidi asked. “You said you liked it!”
“I didn’t want to be rude,” Dylan said, looking uncomfortable, “but that’s really not my kind of date.”
“So who lost this competition?” Piers pressed.
“If I had to decide, I would say…”
Dylan’s eyes flickered to Mia briefly. Kick her off, I found myself wishing. Kick the stupid self-absorbed bitch off!
“Heidi,” Dylan said.
Heidi burst into tears and ran out of the living room. Dylan looked shaken.
“Let’s talk about the best date you had yesterday,” Piers said. He didn’t look shaken at all. He looked almost bored. This was just another day of work to him, I realized. Dylan was agonizing over finding the love of his life, and Piers was just here to collect a paycheck. I pressed my lips together. I didn’t understand my own feelings. Why was I so drawn to Piers? Even though he was immature, Dylan was a much better guy… on screen, that is. And he was a nice guy. Really. But there just wasn’t a spark between us. There wasn’t that ferocious intensity I’d felt during even my first kiss with Piers.
I almost sunk my head into my hands. You’re the queen of making bad decisions. That’s why you’re head over heels for the British asshole. Keep it up, and you’ll never find Mr. Right—
“I really liked ice skating with Kate,” Dylan continued, “but I would say that the best date was with Lisa. We played Mario Kart and had pizza, and it was a perfect way to end the night.”
“Congratulations, Lisa!” Piers said, and this time he didn’t even bother to hide the boredom in his face. His expression was completely blank, emotionless. “You’ve won immunity—again!—as well as free tickets to a private concert at Terrance Studios. Will you be taking Dylan to that concert for a second date?”
His eyes burned into mine.
“Of course!” I said.
I wasn’t thinking about the concert, though. I was thinking about how I could work this win into my story. Clarence would have to give me a raise if I wrote up a kickass article about playing the game of reality TV… and winning! And immunity meant I was one step closer to the final round!
“How do you feel?” Piers asked me.
“It feels amazing,” I said, and the smile I gave wasn’t even forced. “Just amazing! Thanks, Dylan!”
Dylan grinned at me and brushed his blond hair away from his eyes.
“Alright, let’s take a break,” Piers said. “Fifteen minutes, alright? Get Heidi ready for her exit interview, and then we’ll start the next contest.”
The camera crew started adjusting the lights in the living room. I got up and went into the kitchen for a drink, leaving the other contestants to talk with Dylan. I hoped that Kate would be able to talk with him some more.
A hand grabbed me from behind. I didn’t have time to shriek before I’d been pulled into the dark pantry, the door slamming behind me. The light came on with a click and I stared into two blue-green eyes.
“Piers, what the hell are you doing?!”
“Apologizing,” he said.
I reached for the door, but he blocked my path.
“You already apologized,” I said.
“You didn’t accept my apology. You didn’t want to listen to me explain—”
“And stuffing me in a pantry is going to make me want to listen to you? You really are an idiot, Piers.”
I reached for the door again, and this time he grabbed my wrist. A shock went through my arm at his touch, his fingers gripping me tightly.
“Piers—”
“When you barged into my car that day, I let you apologize,” he said. “Now you’re going to let me.”
I stared up into his face. He smelled so damn good, and the feeling of his fingers made my insides start to melt. God, why the hell did my body react like this to him? I took a deep breath.
“Fine,” I said, tamping down the emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. “Hurry up with it. This place smells like coriander.”
“Lisa, do you really want to date Dylan?”
Confusion swirled through my brain.
“What—I—that isn’t an apology, Piers!”
“It’s a question. Answer it.”
“I don’t know!” I said. “Maybe!”
“Kate told me during one of the interviews that you were interested in the money. That you were trying to win so you could walk away with the cash.”
“She—she said that?”
My jaw dropped. I remembered our conversation, and I’d joked about wanting second place, but I didn’t ever say that. Had she misunderstood me? Or was she trying to undermine me with Dylan?
Or was Piers making all of this up?
“So is it true?” he asked.
“I didn’t say that,” I said. “I didn’t even know second place got a bunch of money until she told me.”
“You’re not answering the question.”
“What do you want me to say, Piers?”
His eyes smoldered with an anger so intense it made my own anger boil up to meet it. He had no right to be angry with me. Not after what he’d done.
“I want you to tell me why you’re really here.”
“I’m here because this asshole TV host thought I would make a good joke contestant,” I snapped. I pulled my hand out of his loosened grasp. “Isn’t that why I’m here?”
Piers’ eyebrows slanted down in twin streaks of dark on his face.
“Lisa, the only reason I said that was to get you on the show. The producers wouldn’t have gone for it otherwise. I needed you to come on as a contestant.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because I wanted to see you again!” he hissed at me. “What are you, stupid?”
Frustration surged through me.
“Not as stupid as you, a
pparently!” I hissed back. “Instead of asking me out—like a normal person would do!—you go around lying and manipulating people so that you can spend more time with me on a show where I’m supposed to be dating another guy! How on earth did you come up with a ridiculous idea like that? Are you some kind of moron?”
“Yes!” Piers said, in a half-whisper, half-shout. “I’m a moron, and I’m in love with you! Is that so bloody difficult to understand?!”
My brain stopped working. My mouth opened and shut, trying to come up with the right words.
“You’re not in love with me.” I said the words, and as I said them, I realized that I didn’t want them to be true.
“Lisa, how can you say that?”
“Oh, come on! You were just out there, congratulating me on getting closer to Dylan, looking more bored than if you were hosting Pawn Shop Scrimmage—”
“Bored? Is that what you think I was?” Piers stepped forward even closer, and I felt the heat of his body radiate close to mine. “Lisa, I’m hanging on for dear life out there trying not to smash my fist through a wall because I had to watch those fucking dailies for six hours last night where you kissed… you kissed…”
He blew a breath through clenched teeth and turned away. His face was pale. His fists were clenched so tightly his skin stretched white over his knuckles. And I realized that he was telling the truth.
“You—you’re in love—with me?”
“I’m sorry!” Piers said, still ranting in anger. “It was a stupid idea to bring you on the show, I know! I know that now! I’m sorry! I’m a moron and an asshole and—”
He stopped talking. His face was flushed and his dark hair was falling over his eyes.
“And I’m going to shut up and kiss you already because I can’t take another minute without you.”
Before I could say yes, he had me in his arms.
Piers cupped my cheek in his hand, and his lips crashed against mine. And immediately I knew what I hadn’t wanted to let myself believe. I wasn’t here for Dylan, and I wasn’t here for his money, either. I was here because of the man with the piercing blue-green eyes who had let himself open up to me that night outside of the coffeeshop.
All of the desire that had been churning around in my body for the past week came screaming up. I ran my hands through Piers’ dark hair as his mouth moved down to my neck. He turned, crashing me into the pantry shelves. A box of instant oats turned over, spilling onto the floor.
“Whoops,” Piers mumbled, his mouth against my skin. He stumbled back, and I stumbled with him, clumsy with need. I pulled his face back to mine and his lips seized mine, hot and wanting. His hands ran around my hips and cupped my ass. He lifted me up and my legs wrapped around his waist. I moaned in my throat as he pressed hungry kisses against my mouth again and again.
“Oh, Lisa—”
Piers’ hands were cradling my ass, squeezing the place just above my thigh, kneading my muscles. I was already melted inside, hot like lava, ready to explode.
“Piers, oh God, Piers—”
My hand splayed back against the pantry, knocking over a basket of potatoes. Piers turned around with me still in his arms and leaned back against the door, kissing me all the while. His fingers scrambled back to his pockets for something.
“I have—I have a condom somewhere in this blasted—”
“I’m on birth control,” I said in a rush, thinking of nothing but what I wanted right then. “Is that—are you—”
“Yes, oh God, yes.” His hands were everywhere along my back and ass, and I felt the insistent urge inside of me bubble up. My hand went down to his shirt, fumbling with the buttons.
“Lisa, Lisa—”
“Piers?”
“Ohhh, Lisa—”
“No. Piers, wait.”
“I can’t wait,” he groaned. “I can’t—”
“Wait!” I nearly yelled. “Is this microphone on?”
My fingers had found the small mike wired to the inside of his shirt. His blue-green eyes snapped down and his face froze in shock.
“Oh, shit,” was all he said before he turned and ran out of the pantry.
I followed him in a sprint to the living room, almost knocking him over when he stopped in the doorway.
I gulped when I saw that all of the contestants were sitting on the couch in front of the monitor. Dylan was there, too, a mix of betrayal and shock on his face. The cameraman swung his camera around to face us.
“Well, fuck me,” Piers said, and his voice echoed softly out of the monitor.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“You slut!” Mia yelped. Kate and Julie just sat on the couch without saying anything. Kate’s mouth was a small O of wonder. I wondered what she was thinking.
“How could you?” Dylan said, as he rose up from the couch.
“I’m sorry—” Piers started to say.
“Not you! Her!”
“Me?” I gulped. “Dylan, I’m sorry.” My heart sank. There went my chance at second place and a hundred thousand dollars. And when Clarence found out why I had gotten kicked off the show, he would kill me.
“I can’t believe you would do something like this to me, Lisa! After we made out right here on this couch!” He gestured to the couch where the other contestants were sitting.
“Ugh, you made out on this couch?” Julie stood up and moved away.
“You made out with Dylan?” Kate’s voice was small and hurt.
“Not anymore,” Mia said, crossing her arms. “Looks like someone’s getting kicked off.”
My stomach dropped. I couldn’t get kicked off. I’d told my boss that I was going to be able to write a followup article about the final rounds. I knew he was going to like the first article. But he was going to kill me if he found out that I got myself kicked off the show by fooling around with the host.
“You can’t kick her off, Dylan,” Piers said. “She has immunity.”
“To hell with immunity!” Dylan said. “What were you two doing in the pantry anyway?”
“Playing Scrabble,” I said.
“Making cupcakes,” Piers said at the same time.
Dylan looked confused.
“You were screwing around with Piers!” Mia said. “You were trying to get in good with the host so that he would let you win another contest. Weren’t you?”
“You’re projecting,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I wouldn’t sink that low.”
“Yeah, right!”
“Anyway, Dylan already liked me enough to make out with me. I didn’t need to suck up to Piers to win this contest.”
“You made out with Dylan,” Kate whispered again. She seemed to be in shock.
“It was just some kissing,” I said to her. “It didn’t mean anything.”
“What do you mean, it didn’t mean anything?!” Dylan’s confusion turned to anger.
“I didn’t—oh, dammit,” I said. I was going about this all wrong.
“Do I not mean anything to you?” he asked. He looked at me with an aching sincerity. His eyebrows were knotted into a plea on his forehead.
I looked at Dylan. Then I looked at Piers. Then back at Dylan.
“Dylan, I’m sorry—” I started.
His face crumpled and he ran out of the living room toward the elevator. Piers rushed after him.
I stared at Kate, who was white with shock. Mia and Julie were staring at me like I had just bitten the head off of a kitten. The camera man looked up from the lens, expecting me to say something.
“Well, fuck me,” was all I could manage.
I turned to go after the two men who had turned my life upside down. The elevator doors were just closing as I ran into the hallway.
“Dammit,” I said. I’d just missed them.
The cameramen barreled into the hallway behind me. I looked at the emergency exit and sighed. Shucking off my heels, I opened the door and started to run down the stairs.
By the time I made it to the ground floor, my heart was thudding s
o hard I thought I was going to pass out and my hair was wet with sweat. My chest heaved as I threw open the door and saw Piers and Dylan talking in front of the elevator. They both turned to look at me.
“Lisa?” Dylan asked.
“One—one—one second,” I said, panting. “I can’t—can’t—” But I couldn’t breathe enough to tell them I couldn’t breathe. My hands gripped my knees as I bent over, wheezing.
“Are you okay?” Dylan asked.
“You look like hell, Lisa,” Piers said.
I glared up at him.
“You—you—”
“I was just telling Dylan here that this was all a set up,” Piers said, looking at me meaningfully as he cut me off.
“A set—setup—oh!” I gasped and slumped back against the wall.
“I can’t believe you made me think you kissed him!” Dylan said. “I was so worried.”
I blinked hard. I didn’t know if it was the oxygen deprivation making me confused.
Piers stared at me, his eyes widening slightly in warning.
“He knows now, Lisa,” he said, every word coming out carefully. “He knows that it was all pretend.”
Realization dawned.
“Pretend,” I wheezed, my breath slowly coming back to me. “Pretend. Right.”
“I’m sorry we couldn’t let you in on it, Dylan,” Piers said, his voice so smooth and calm that I started to believe him myself. “But the producers thought that they would get a more realistic reaction from you if you thought it was real.”
“Man,” Dylan said, ruffling his hair. “I did think it was real. I was about to quit the show.”
“Ah ha ha!” Piers laughed, and it was such a fake laugh I thought Dylan would catch on. But he didn’t.
“Wow,” Dylan said, a new smile breaking over his face. “You sure got me!”
“Ha!” was all I could manage to say.
“Reality TV is really weird,” Dylan said. “I thought it was all real, you know?”
“That’s what we tell the audience,” Piers said glibly. “But it was all fake. Wasn’t it, Lisa?”
“All fake,” I wheezed. “Right.”
“Sorry I got mad at you, Lisa,” Dylan said. “I really thought…”
I waved one hand at him knowingly. I hoped that he wouldn’t be able to tell the blush on my face from my overall redness from running down the stairs.