Matched (21 page)

And to crush me further, he adds, “I’d never let a dude get away with that shit on my sister. Just sayin’.”

“Oakley, you don’t
have
a sister!” I snap, my anger bubbling up quicker than I ever felt coming. “Butt out!”

“Wow, whose side is she on?” Rachel snarls, scooting closer to Oakley’s left—Nadia already consoling him with an arm rub on the right.

“I’m on
Emma’s
side,” I inform them all snidely before looking only at Emma with a sigh. “I get it. You’re hurt and angry, and that’s all jumbled up with defiance and suffocation.” I shoot Cruz a pointed glare. “But Wyatt? Come on, Em. Tell me you think that’s okay, and I’ll shut up.”

She shocks me by leaning in to kiss my cheek, then turns to Wyatt. “Stay in here a while—trust me. Cruz?” She offers her hand. He’s slow and resentful, but he takes it and follows her out. But not before he stops in the doorway and gives Wyatt a look back to convey a threat of inhumanity.

“You so much as
think
about even breathing her air ever again, and I will kill you,” he says as calmly as one would a friendly goodbye, then drops Emma’s hand and walks away.

This reaction is more unsettling than the one I was expecting. A bloodbath? At least I’d know what he was thinking.

“Come on.” Oakley shakes off the leeches and moves toward me. And for the first time since the night he scaled the bleachers and asked my name, I flinch, shunning his touch before marching past them all to my room.

Miles walks in right behind me, and I ask him to turn his head so I can change into something more comfortable. I’m no longer feeling the glitzy-party-dress vibe; jean shorts and a tank top are calling my name. He does, carrying on a conversation while I change.

“That was way cool of you back there, girl, defusing Cruz, giving Emma some dignity, and calling your man out for being a dickhead.”

Whoa, Miles has spunk. Surprise. He’s usually quietly tucked in a corner somewhere. “Yeah, I don’t understand the Oakley thing at all. It’s not like him.”

He laughs. Another shocker—in fact, now that I stop and really think about it, Miles seems perpetually sad.

“Cruz sleeps inches from you every night and has licked your body—and that’s just one tip on the slippery mountain of moments we’ve
all
caught. It’s obvious your beefy boyfriend doesn’t like Cruz and wants him gone. That’s exactly what all that was about.”

The second he’s done speaking, I know he’s absolutely hit it on the head, though I still don’t think it’s reason enough for Oakley’s behavior. But I’ll dissect it later. I’m eager to get some more guy perspective while I can.

“But Oakley licked Jasmine, and I’m not mad. Hell, he went on a date with Nadia! That’s the game—one we’re
all
playing! So what do you have to say about that?”

“Not your style to get petty for the camera, which I respect. Can I turn around yet?”

“Oh, yeah.” I laugh. “Sorry.”

“Like I was saying…” He grins at me. “We all see what’s happening—the disconnect in your relationship—and Oakley’s feeling it. Last thing he’d want is some guy adding to the already massive obstacles you two are facing.”

I’m speechless. No one has called it out yet, but I know it’s the truth.

“One word of advice?” he asks.

“Sure.”

“Practice what you preach. You’re all eyes when it comes to Jasmine going for the familiar, comfortable route. Maybe it’s time you ask yourself if that’s exactly what you’re doing, too. It’s not easy to think clearly when your heart cries louder than your head—believe me, I know—but try to be honest with yourself.”

The reality of his advice is a cruel, penetrating bitch. How can I expect Jasmine to listen to me when my own relationship is going down faster than a torpedoed ship?

“Who knew you were the omnipotent one in the house?” I crack to lighten the tension.

“From the outside is always the clearest view. Plus, I spend more time listening and watching than most, and I can recognize another struggling soul.”

I step closer, wanting him to know that I’m here if he needs me, but he’s already heading to the door.

“You don’t have to figure it all out right this minute, Harlow. Now come on—I heard the dates come in downstairs. Time to face the music.”

Confessional: Emma McCall

“I was about due for another one of these anyway, and as if I’m just going to stand out there and wait for them to stroll back in from their dream date.

“I’m not sure what Callie thought she’d be watching over tonight, and I definitely don’t want to know what she saw. Considering Court and Ivy have apparently been caught in compromising positions several times, I bet tonight, outside these prison walls, was quite a show.

“But whatever it was or wasn’t is none of my business. Court can do who or whatever he wants. Yes, I thought he was sweet and may have been interested in me, but obviously not. And that’s fine—it barely had time to register as a blip on the radar. Besides…seems he wants a girl who drinks real wine coolers and uses the convenient excuse of alcohol to do anything he asks or initiates.

“I may have just had some fun of my own while he was out gallivanting. Okay, so it wasn’t fun at all, and nothing happened. But if the rumor mill lives up to my expectations, everyone will think it did. And no, I don’t feel guilty using Wyatt to help. He’s the poster boy for using people guilt-free and exploiting it. It might’ve been somewhat tacky considering he’s Court’s brother, so yeah, fine—I’m a little bit sorry for that part.

“Moving on! Now that the word’s out that I’m actually a real-live girl—young, single, and here to enjoy myself—and it’s been proven Cruz doesn’t know about or stop everything, maybe I’ll get to know some of the other guys a little bit better.

“Peyton? He’s handsome, smart…eh, I don’t know. Miles! He seems very nice and quiet, which means he can be sneaky and keep a secret. Yeah, I think I’ll see about Miles.

“They’re probably about ready to announce tonight’s Soul Search, and I bet Callie got all the evidence she needed to send in the cowboy and his blonde red-carpet queen. That’s fine—nothing to get upset over. Two less in the house. That’s what we’re here for.

“Guess we’re about to find out.”

Chapter 14

I’m walking down the stairs as Callie’s running up. She grabs my hand and shoves me backward into my room, her body acting as the door block.

“Okay, talk fast, what happened while we were gone?”

I give her a winded, babbled recap about Emma’s vengeful debacle. I watch her eyes widen and jaw drop, so at least I know my speech was coherent. Then it’s her turn.

“Peyton’s sick of Ivy. ‘To hell with the movie,’ he said. He wants her gone. She was all over Court tonight, and I’m pretty sure they fucked in the bathroom of the restaurant!” she grieves, but I can tell she’s been close to bursting while waiting to unload that whopper. “No clue how to tell Emma, but if she’s screwing around with his brother, maybe…never mind. I was gonna say we send in Court and Ivy tonight, but now I don’t know.” She bites her thumbnail.

“What do you mean?”

“They definitely did
something
in that bathroom tonight. I was gonna lay his shit bare while telling Emma at the same time and send their asses in, even though I don’t really think they’re a match. Peyton says Ivy’s a whore—that whatever it was meant nothing to her—and I saw Court’s face when they came out. He wasn’t impressed—definitely not mooning over his soulmate. But if Emma was doing the same shit with Wyatt…well? Harlow?”

I can’t picture Ivy and Court as a match, either. He’s a rugged, quiet cowboy, and she’s all fake Hollywood. Though I do believe in the opposites-attract theory, the two of them is just too extreme. Court may be hooking up in bathrooms, but if you look closely enough, he seems more the type to have a nice girl on his arm—not a bitchy one on his jock. And I’m with Callie, Emma’s performance tonight kinda negates the urge to put Court on blast for similar mistakes.

I snap my fingers as a flash of win-win brilliance hits me. “I got it! Send Ivy in with Wyatt. Two whores—they’re perfect for each other. And,” I say in a hushed whisper as though offhand, looking around, “we may get lucky and really send them home. Cruz doesn’t want him near Emma, and after tonight it’d bring some peace—not to mention eliminate stupid distractions. Maybe Emma and Court will start paying attention to each other. Whaddya think?”

Sly, canny agreement flashes across her face and she nods. “And this is why I consult you! Let’s go!”

She pulls open the door and is ready to run out, but stops short. I slam into her back and she whips around, her face pale.

“Sorry, just need to be clear…are we telling Emma about the possible bathroom hookup or not? ’Cause if your plan works, I’m not sure I can support ‘Court and Emma’ if she doesn’t go in fully aware—and comes clean with him.”

“Five minutes till Soul Search!” blares over the intercom.

“If we tell her, it’s going to hurt her even more. But she can’t be
that
surprised or mad, considering. And it might help her move on if she can’t forgive him; his transgression
does
sound worse than hers. But if we don’t tell her, we’re shitty friends, and it’s not our deal, so our what’s-forgivable-and-what’s-not scale doesn’t count. Then again—”

“Right, it’s settled, we tell her,” Callie decides for us, since I’m a bipolar rambler. As she opens the door, she nearly plows Jasmine over at her attempt to rush out.

“There you guys are. Everyone’s waiting. By the way, secrets hurt feelings, bitches.” She shoves each of us in the arm playfully.

“Sorry, but trust us. The live version’s gonna be better. Watch this.”

I grin and drag her with me, following Jasmine out the door.

Oakley sees my entrance from where he’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. Thanks to Miles’ insight, Oakley needn’t say a word. I know he’s mad I “reprimanded” him in front of a room of people—and the nation—for the guy who licked me.

Well, he can stew all night. I’m mad at him, too—because he didn’t seek me out to discuss it, and for acting like a childish hypocrite by provoking violence in the first place.

So I sit beside Jasmine on the couch.

“Peyton, Callie, have you reached a decision?” Tom asks as they finish whispering between themselves and nod at our host. Callie’s slipping me a subtle chin up and conspiratorial grin.

“We have,” Peyton says for them both. “Callie and I might not have had quite as much fun as Court and—”

He doubles over with a grunt, Callie having elbowed him ever-so-not-gently in the ribs in the nick of time. Emma will be informed tactfully—privately.

With his breath back, he goes on. “After some final conferring with my
lovely
partner,” he says, grinning at Callie, “we’ve decided to send in Ivy…” He pauses so he can enjoy her gasp. Jasmine exhales one of her own and nudges my arm.

“Wait for it. It gets so much better,” I say with a snicker.

With his gaze still locked on Ivy, Peyton fires the kill shot with a brilliant beam. “And Wyatt.”

“Wait,
what
?” Ivy stomps her foot and shrills—I think perhaps trying to speak to the dolphins outside. “But I blew Court. Wrong brother, dipshits!”

Bathroom mystery solved. It wasn’t as bad as we thought, and so
very
classy. I don’t know Court very well, but I’m still itching to slap him upside the head…if he was in the room, that is.

I turn my whole body to look out the glass doors that lead to the pool and come up empty again. He’s nowhere to be seen…and now that I’m taking roll, neither is Emma.

Huh.
Wonder how they got to skip? Or what they’re doing…and whether they’re doing it together.

“Movie premieres before this show, right?” Peyton confirms with Tom, regaining my attention. Our host assures him that’s correct, and Peyton’s smug joy now splits his face wide open. I do my best to listen, squirming to send out the search party the moment he’s finished.

“Ivy, if everyone you have, would, or have
tried
to sleep with was your soulmate, the show would already be over. No guy in the house or north of the equator is unscathed by those requirements. Helpful tidbit? When he takes you into the very romantic ambience of a public restroom and comes out looking bored, he’s not your one. So although you make it difficult to narrow down, we figure the other biggest whore here—besides Nadia of course, whom you can’t match with—is Wyatt.”

“Holy shit,” Jasmine mumbles beside me. I tame my laughter, giving her a
told ya it was good
look.

“Well, then. Ivy, please go get your safe, and Wyatt, your key.” Tom looks as shocked as the rest of the people just finding out. Peyton’s loathing for Ivy obviously runneth deep, and in light of her shenanigans tonight—selfishly jeopardizing their movie, careers, and commitment to their images—the dam has finally collapsed.