Love or Lust 2

by Rachael Brownell

  I know our group is getting smaller, but when I look through this week’s schedule, it really hits home how many people are already gone. Tonight we have another group event. The chef on site is going to teach us how to cook. All of us, not just the girls even though we are the ones responsible for dinner this week.

  Which I have all planned out as of five minutes ago, when Claudia knocked on my door demanding my shopping list. I was rushing to finish it when she showed up. Not that I’m planning on attempting to cook anything challenging. Nope. I took it easy on myself, and after reading all the information on the guys that was given to me, it wasn’t all that hard to figure out what they would want to eat.

  Then on Thursday, we again have a group day. The girls are going to spend the day shopping while the boys . . . well, I’m not sure what they’re up to. It wasn’t on my schedule. All I know is they’re not hanging out with us. It was made clear that we were to spend the day apart.

  “Knock, knock,” Bella calls as she walks through my open door. “You ready to get your ass kicked in the kitchen?”

  We went for a late-night swim last night with Jace and Drake. I let it slip that I was a horrible cook and that the thought of having to impress the guys with my skills terrified me. That’s what three of Jace’s concoctions will do to a girl.

  Loosen her lips.

  Which may have been his plan all along considering he was kissing me every chance he had.

  Still, the purple liquid went down smoother than it should have with the amount of alcohol I’m sure he put in it. And, of course, he made sure it had a complimentary accessory. Last night it was a twisty straw, which only made me have to suck harder to get a mouthful.

  Realizing what I just said in my head causes me to blush.

  “Dirty thoughts?” Bella asks, shooting me a wicked grin.

  “Something like that but probably not along the lines you’re thinking.”

  “Jace?”

  “Not exactly. Well, not entirely.”

  “Hmm . . .” She taps at her chin with her pointer finger, her lips pursed as she tries to appear like she’s thinking super hard about what I could possibly be thinking about.

  Grabbing my phone as it chimes in my hand, I say, “I was actually thinking about the drink he made last night and how hard it was to get the frozen goodness through the straw.”

  “So you were thinking about sucking and Jace?” she asks, a little too perky for my liking.

  Throwing my head back, I can’t help but laugh at innocent little Bella and her dirty mouth. The more I get to know her, the more I like her. She acts like a sweet, southern belle, but she is anything but. I figured that out after about five minutes of being around her when she’s intoxicated. She’s just as messed up as the rest of us.

  And so is her story of heartache.

  The short version . . . boyfriend of six years left her for a man. He said some nasty things about never loving her and only using her to figure out if he was really gay or not. Turns out, he’s not. She spotted him with another woman about a week before she signed up for the show. He confessed he lied because he thought it would hurt her less.

  “Please don’t tell him that. It might give him ideas,” I beg as I close my door behind me. Courtney and Teegan are waiting on the main path for us.

  We’ve decided to become a united front. Yes, we understand this is a competition, but it doesn’t have to mean we have to fight with each other. We made a pact, to accept that we’re probably interested in the same guys. That we’re kissing them. Fighting for them. We’re just not going to be bitches about it.

  And we’re certainly not going to talk about it with each other. That would only cause problems.

  Courtney kissing Lennon . . . don’t want to hear about it.

  Teegan’s date with Jace later this week . . . not my business.

  What I don’t know won’t hurt me. That’s the stance I’m taking right now. I’d rather have friends than enemies because this place can make you feel lonely.

  Even when my phone refuses to stop chiming in my pocket.

  Glancing at it before I silence the ringer, it’s another text from Wren. That’s twenty or so that I haven’t responded to or read. I was contemplating letting Jace text him again, but I haven’t seen him since last night. He said the guys wanted to hang out this morning.

  I have a feeling they were making the same pact the girls did.

  No fighting over us with the understanding that they’re all after the same thing.

  “You’re a popular woman this afternoon,” Bella whispers in my direction as we approach the outdoor kitchen.

  “I’d rather not be,” I retort.

  “Who wants your attention?”

  “My ex. He’s being rather persistent. I’ll have to change my phone number when I get home at this rate. He’s not taking no for an answer.”

  “What does he want?” she asks, sliding into a seat at the head of the table before pouring each of us a glass of wine.

  “To talk. For me to stop talking about him on the show. He’s pissed I aired his dirty laundry on national television.”

  She nods in understanding, but I don’t miss the flicker in her eye. The sadness that she pushes away. She was in love with her ex, and he led her on for years. Stole time from her. Time she could have spent with someone who was actually happy to be with her. Someone who genuinely cared for her. Instead, he was selfish and only broke it off with her when it was convenient for him.

  Right before they were going to take the next step by moving in together.

  Dick.

  “It’s fine. He can be upset. His anger is mild in comparison to how angry I was when I caught him in bed with another woman.” My words are stronger than I expected them to be.

  Am I over what happened? Maybe. Am I still pissed? Yup. Because if he walked in here right now, I’d probably punch him in his throat or kick him in the balls.

  The guys slowly make their way over to where we’re seated. Each of them with a signature smirk on their face. One that tells me we’re in for a good time tonight. Devious. Daring. Trouble.

  Who doesn’t like to get in a little trouble from time to time?

  Plus, with the way Jace’s attention is directed at me, trouble has a way of sounding like fun.

  The chef makes her grand entrance moments later, pulling a cart of food behind her. Appetizers and desserts. Cheese and bread, olives, creamy dips, the works. Not to mention multiple bottles of wine.

  She begins her demonstration by talking about flavors. How to pair those flavors with wine or other beverages. What the best combinations are. How to spice up bland food and how much heat is too much heat.

  After she finishes with the flavor profiles, she pushes the cart away and we move into the kitchen for our first demonstration. She goes through each cooking technique from roasting to searing to panfrying.

  Considering my skills mainly consist of heating food in a microwave, I give her my full attention. My focus is on the techniques I’ll need to use this week based on the simple menu I put together. Plus, I figure there’s always Google if I get stuck.

  After walking us through techniques, she focuses on plating. At first, I was confused. Food on plate . . . simple. Um, not so much. Her food looks gorgeous. Garnishing played a big part. It seems so simple, yet it made a big difference in the way I looked at the food. Which sucks considering I wasn’t thinking about that when I made my list for Claudia, so I’m going to have to improvise as I go.

  After the chef’s finished with her demonstration, she leaves us to cook our own meals. To practice. I choose the salmon as that is the dish I was most impressed with out of all the ones she cooked for us. Deciding to cook it on the stovetop, I season both sides and toss it in the pan, placing it on the burner.

  Jace steps up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close. “Wanna cook a piece for me?”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m cooking you dinner tomorrow night. Why
don’t you cook a piece for me,” I joke, poking him in the rib with my elbow.

  “So demanding. It’s a damn good thing you’re sexy,” he replies, kissing me on the curve of my neck as he reaches over, turning the burner on.

  Damn. I forgot about that part. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have been eating for a while.

  Jace quickly seasons a piece for himself and adds it to the pan. I watch in awe as he pulls out another pan before thinly slicing red potatoes, then tossing them in oil and seasoning them. Once those are cooking, he flips the salmon and starts chopping veggies for a salad.

  My mouth is watering by the time he begins plating, placing the salmon over the bed of greens and drizzling it with balsamic vinegar. Then he finishes the dish with the crispy potato thins, topping those with a dollop of sour cream and sprinkling everything with green onions.

  Jace walks out of the kitchen with both plates. All I can do is follow like a lost puppy. He has my dinner, and I’m salivating at the thought of tasting it.

  He takes a seat at the far end of the table. With four people being sent home, there are empty chairs. Most of the group has congregated at the other end giving us a hint of privacy. It’s almost like we’re alone, on a real date.

  That’s when I spot the cameraman moving in closer to us.

  Picking up my fork, I flake off a piece of the salmon and stab it. Not wanting to give him anything worth filming, we eat in silence until he directs the camera back at the main group.

  “What do you think?” Jace whispers.

  “It’s amazing. You’re a really good cook.”

  It wasn’t a lie. The fish was perfectly seasoned and cooked. Tender and moist on the inside but with a crisp on the outside. The potatoes were the perfect accent, and the salad was . . . well, salad. The dressing was great, though.

  “I know my way around a kitchen,” he notes with a hint of amusement in his voice.

  “Care to expand on that comment?”

  “Not right now. Ask me again sometime and I might tell you. When there aren’t a dozen people listening to our conversation.”

  “Or cameras in our faces?”

  “Exactly. I do want to keep some things about my life private.” I can see the shift in his posture when he says the word private. Almost like he’s hiding a huge fact that he wants to drop on me but isn’t sure he should.

  “I get that. Nothing about being here is private, though. We’re on display for the world to see. To judge.”

  Jace nods his head as he takes the last bite of his fish, dipping it in the vinaigrette before popping it in his mouth. There’s something sensual about the way he eats. Almost as if he’s caressing the fork with his lips. Lips I enjoy being caressed by.

  “See something you like?” he asks, his devilish smirk back in place.

  I was staring and I got caught. What’s new? It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last.

  “Actually—” My phone vibrates in my pocket, startling me. Closing my eyes, I let out a frustrated breath before pulling it from my pocket, ready to throw it against the nearest wall.

  “He still texting you?”

  “Yup. Refuses to stop. I haven’t even read the messages. He can see when I do. I was hoping he would give up, but he’s a persistent bastard.”

  “May I?” he asks, reaching for my phone.

  “Go right ahead. I was going to ask if you wanted to, but I haven’t seen you all day.”

  Jace winks at me as he reads through all the texts Wren has been sending.

  “Well?” I urge when he offers no details before starting to type.

  “He really wants to talk to you. Said he was going to keep texting until you replied. So I’m going to reply and he’ll get the message loud and clear.”

  It feels like twenty minutes pass before Jace finally hands me back my phone, his eyes sparkling in delight.

  “Do I even want to know what you wrote?”

  “Read it. He already has.”

  Looking down, sure enough, there’s a little note that says “read” beneath the incredibly long message Jace sent him.

  JACE: There is no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to be blunt with you. You lost her. It’s over. You fucked up, and you need to accept that. Whether she talks about you on TV or not, she’s not interested in rekindling whatever shitty relationship you had. How do I know? Because she’s sitting next to me. Because I’m the one she’s been kissing on TV. Jace. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, but you don’t know much about me, so let me enlighten you a bit. I’m not here for the money. I came here to meet someone. To see if the idea of love even existed because, in my experience, it doesn’t. Until I met Presley, I was convinced I’d never find my perfect match. Someone I was willing to be completely honest with. Someone I wanted to share my life with. So I guess I should be thanking you for being a douchebag. If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t be staring into her gorgeous ocean-blue eyes, kissing her, holding her hand, and falling in love with her more and more every day. Considering my actual competition for her heart is at the other end of the table, I think it’s safe to say that your messages will continue to go unanswered if you choose to keep sending them. Save yourself the time and let go. It’s over. It’s been over. And she’s moved on. Have a nice night.

  Wow!

  I’m utterly speechless. I can’t even bring myself to look at Jace right now. I don’t want him to see the tears in my eyes from the words I just read.

  He’s falling in love with me.

  Chapter Nine

  Day 24

  It was hard to turn Jace away after dinner last night. I wanted to spend time with him, but I was an emotional wreck after reading the text he sent to Wren. I played it off as I was tired, but really, I was freaking the fuck out on the inside.

  Wren and I dated for more than a year before he told me he loved me. I couldn’t say it back right away even though I knew how I felt about him. It scared me, to care about someone so much. To give him a piece of my heart. To give him the power to ultimately destroy you.

  I was cautious, to say the least.

  I’d never given my heart to anyone before. Never uttered those words to a man before. Sure, I was in love with him. I felt that love in every fiber of my body. I showed him how I felt on a daily basis. Could I bring myself to say the words, though? Nope.

  It was three months after he said it the first time before I said it back to him.

  What should have been a monumental moment between us turned out not to be.

  He dropped me off after dinner with his parents one night, kissed me goodbye outside my door, and when he told me he loved me, I replied with, “I love you too.” It didn’t even register that I’d said it until after I was inside, about to close the door behind me. Everything that happened next felt like slow motion.

  I turned.

  A wicked grin spread across his face.

  He pulled me into his arms and pressed his lips to mine.

  When he pulled away, he whispered in my ear, “I knew it.”

  Then he was gone, leaving me in stunned silence in my doorway.

  I don’t remember feeling different after I said it. I wasn’t more in love with him now that I’d admitted my feelings. He didn’t treat me any differently. Nothing between us changed. Hell, I didn’t even see him for almost a week after that between my class schedule and him having to travel for work.

  Naomi said it should have felt bigger than it did. That when someone tells you they love you, your heart should feel like it’s going to explode inside your chest. You’ll feel lighter. Everything will seem clearer.

  And then, when it’s true love, you won’t hesitate to say the words back.

  Jace didn’t tell me that he loves me. He said he was falling in love with me. Yet the first thing that popped into my head were Naomi’s words.

  If I were in love with Jace, if it was real, I’d have the sudden urge to tell him how I felt.

  I don’t.

/>   I’m not in love with him, but I do care about him. More than I should after only a few weeks. More than I want to admit to myself yet. Or anyone else.

  It sounds so cliché, and maybe that’s what’s holding me back. The show’s called Love or Lust for fuck’s sake. I wasn’t expecting to experience either. That wasn’t the plan. It was supposed to be a game. No one was going to get hurt. I’d have a little fun, win some money, and go home unscathed.

  Being a planner, I expect things to go the way I want them to. In the order I lay out. With no complications.

  Jace is a complication.

  He wasn’t supposed to be so . . . everything. Gorgeous. Helpful. Kind. Sexy. Caring.

  Why couldn’t he be more like Milo or Drake? I like both of them, but I have no interest in getting to know them on a sexual or emotional level. I’d consider them friends and nothing more. I can play this game with them without getting hurt.

  There’s no attraction.

  Then throw in Lennon and shit gets really complicated. I like Lennon. He’s great. Good looking, sweet. He’s the kind of guy you fall in love with without a second thought. I’ve been able to keep him at an emotional distance, enough to keep me from falling in love with him.

  Jace has broken down all my barriers.

  And tonight, I’m cooking for him. We’re going to be alone. In my villa. No cameramen creeping around. The only cameras are the ones secured to the walls. The ones that secretly catch everything. There is no privacy in this place.

  Pulling out all the ingredients for dinner, I stare aimlessly at the counter and hold back the tears threatening to fall. I can do this. I can cook a simple lasagna. I can be alone with him without having an emotional breakdown. I have to. There’s no reason to cry.

  His words could have been for show. Hell, he might have been trying to piss Wren off and nothing more. I have no idea. I basically ran away from him as soon as I could, and I never asked for an explanation.

  The sound of my phone vibrating against the counter pulls my attention away from the box of uncooked noodles. When I look down at the screen, Naomi’s face is smiling up at me.