Matched (31 page)

Emma bombs the bombshell. “Do you suck dick for a living?”

Half the group bursts out laughing, while the other half picks their jaws up off the ground.

I lean out to study Emma’s expression. She couldn’t care less, waiting impatiently for the answer with an evil smirk and judgment in her glare. The girl’s on fire—itching for a target for her pent-up aggression, just like the rest of us.

I don’t bother to check on Cruz’s status. Not only are we each pretending the other doesn’t exist, but he’s probably passed out from shock anyway.

“Yes,” Miss Flotation Devices
for the Entire Plane
replies, no shame in her boastful tone.

I cross out “1” next to Jensen and replace it with “4,” moving ‘Not a Lesbian but Thank You for Asking’ to Court. But wait—that leaves the punk chick coming up with Miles, and that can’t be right. I wait for Nadia’s turn to decide how to rearrange.

“Vere you on
America’s Most Vanted
?” Nadia snaps, obviously unimpressed.

“No, bitch,” she barks right back, and I’m tempted to clap. “Were you on
Who Wants to be a Ratchet Ho
?”

And…I’m clapping.

Two crew guys get between them before the hair-pulling begins—well, Nadia might’ve gotten one pull in before Badass knocked her out cold.

I hurry to fix my answers before the men start their round of questioning. I do end up putting Badass with Miles, figuring he’s so sweet maybe he needs the opposite type of woman. I don’t feel confident in my answer sheet, but there’s no time to overthink it.

Oakley’s first for the men, and his question’s delivered with no lack of animosity. “You at least wait till I left?”

Everyone is scribbling on their sheets immediately, all obviously writing his number next to my name.

“Yes,” Jake answers. Tom moves quickly on to Jensen, who smirks across at the dorkiest little dude I’ve ever seen. His Hawaiian shirt’s too large for his minuscule frame, and he’s just a bit outside of pulling off the whole white-socks-with-sandals look.

“You ever get laid?” Jensen asks, and I think we’re all surprised when he proudly answers, “Yes.”

Who in the hell did he date?
Emma would be my instant guess, but since I’m almost positive she’s a virgin…no one else makes even a little sense though, so I write down his number and make a note, ‘fill last empty slot.’

Court asks the oldest of all the male guests, who’s at least forty, if he travels around the world for his career. Finally, a question with discerning value. When he responds affirmatively, I’m quick to put him down for Nadia. Only two names left on my sheet, Callie and Jasmine.

The next guy is unremarkable in every way. He’s not particularly cute, but not unattractive either. His hair needs a trim but his clothes are higher end, and he’s got a smug look on his face. The guy next to him—the last one—is shorter, but all muscle. I’m guessing he’s an athlete, but I wait to make any changes until after Miles asks, “Do you
personally
know more than one cast member?”

Interesting question, and I know exactly where he’s going with it when I see the grin on Jensen’s face.

“Yes,” number nine answers, and I take a closer look since I’m now convinced he’s Jasmine’s ex. Between him and Jensen, I can honestly say Jensen wins in the looks department. At least he wins at something.

That leaves the last male guest as Callie’s, and I’m feeling sure about it when I look down the line for Cruz’s question. What I find, I would’ve never expected; my belly tightens, my heart rate doubling at the sight. Cruz’s glare is so fixed on Jake, his brow line tight and nostrils flared, he doesn’t even realize it’s his turn.

Then again, I’m known to misread things.

“Cruz?” Tom’s third attempt grabs his attention. He straightens, catching my eye in the process before his gaze swings to number ten and he tosses out disinterestedly, “You take a lotta shit in your career?”

The guy laughs. “Yeah, sure do.”

Oh, I get it. I’m guessing he’s a gymnast like Callie. Other guys always gave the ones on our squad guff too, even though their upper-body strength and agility were phenomenal and they spent a lot of time with a team of girls—with their hands literally up their skirts.

I write it down at the same moment Tom speaks, and our clipboards are collected immediately. “That’s all of them—ten exes! Let’s see how well you did on this test of your instincts. While your scores are tallied, let’s start the introductions.” Tom smiles, holding his hand out to girl number one.

“Hi, my name’s Cameron and I work with Miles,” she says, and I’m blown away. “We dated a few years ago and ended things on good terms, so we’ve remained close. He’s an amazing friend.”

He sure is.
I smile his way.

“Missed that one,” Callie whispers, and I nod in agreement.

Up next is the cheerleader. I do my best to remain indifferent when she speaks. “Hi, thanks for having me. My name’s Sophie, and I started dating Court in junior high.”

Wrong again. Guess the vibe was purely cheer envy.

I chance a glimpse at Emma. Her jaw is locked and teeth grinding, clearly communicating her lethal thoughts.

“We broke up after graduation, but I miss him.” She looks to Court, whose head is lowered, his slight smile unhidden. “I’m still in love with him, and he knows it.”

Court looks up, but doesn’t say anything while Tom and the rest of us wait.

“Okay, next,” Tom says, moving on after an awkward bout of silence.

“My name’s Blaire, and I’m a cheerleader for the North Bay Ravens. I dated Oakley for a few months last year. Lot of fun.” Her eyes are dancing over him, and the jerk actually gives her a head nod and grin.

“I’m Brandi,” girl four, AKA Boobs McGee, starts. “I’ve been with Jensen off and on for a few years, and have filmed a couple times with Jasmine. Both amazing lovers.”

Jasmine’s face is in flames as the final girl jumps in.

“Hey, I’m Veronica—Cruz’s chick.”

And there’s the elusive jab of pain. Blood pounds in my ears as I run through the mental checklist every female has.
Why her? How long? How’d he feel about her? And perhaps most importantly, why is she speaking in present tense?

“Bullshit,” Cruz grunts, stepping forward. “She’s just a groupie who can’t take a hint.” He pivots toward Adam, who’s announcing his enjoyment with every nuance of his face, and flips him off.

Adam obviously hand-picked this particular visitor. I’m just relieved he’s not
with
her…but thinking back to his casualness with Callie on the sofa that night, I’m sure something happened with Veronica at some point.

The guys’ intros begin. This ought to be fun.

“I’m Jake. I’m a long-haul driver—met Harlow where she works. Most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.” A perpetual charmer, he throws me a flirty smile. “We dated a while, but her schedule got too busy.” He looks right at Oakley. “She has my number, if that ever changes.”

“Stay the fuck away from her!” Oakley shouts, shifting his weight, ready to make a move.

Seriously, over Jake?
He means nothing to me. My schedule wasn’t that busy—it was simply the perfect excuse to end things. And
hello
? We broke up
again
, he kissed Nadia, the cheerleader he fucked while he was away is here…so he cares
why
?

That’s just it, though—he doesn’t care for the right reasons. This isn’t about me. This is a male-pride pissing match.

“Calm down,” Tom instructs casually. “There’s security everywhere. So let’s focus on the game, shall we?”

“Hi everyone.” Hawaiian-shirt guy sounds friendly and excited to be here, and I instantly regret thinking of him as a dork. I’m not sure how long they’re staying, but I bet it’s long enough for him to lose that optimistic spark.
Like the rest of us
. “I’m Charles, and I lived next door to Emma and Cruz.”

He smiles at Emma, then waves at Cruz. Emma had a boyfriend, and Cruz let him live to tell about it?

“Hey Chuckie.” Cruz grins. “Lovin’ the sandals.”

“Thanks. My mom said I should get some beach gear before I came.”

“Smart lady,” Cruz carries on. “How is she?”

“So you dated Emma for a while?” Tom rudely interrupts.

“Fourteen months and twenty-two days. She ended things after dinner on a Saturday night, but she’s still my friend.”

“Sure am,” Emma speaks up. She blows him a kiss, which he reaches out, grabs, and clutches over his heart.

He’s sweet. Not my type, but definitely deserving of a loving girl.

Next we meet Pierce, a fashion photographer of few words other than, “Nadia and I were lovers.” Shocker—someone else Nadia slept with meaninglessly. Bet they had a lot of trouble digging up one of those to represent her ex.

And then there’s Ian, who tells us he’s a porn director. “Met Jasmine early last year. I’d been dying to get an introduction, and Jensen finally brought her by for one of my parties.” His face devalues with a lecherous grin, proving his worthlessness sooner than even I could’ve guessed. “Girl proved she’s everything I’d heard and more. I was sold. We split up due to difference of opinion; I wanted her in a film she felt wasn’t right for her. I still disagree, but we see each other occasionally and there’s no hard feelings. Right, Jasmine?”

She doesn’t even look at him. If I thought I could get a punch in before some crewmember creep grabbed me, I’d so throw it.

“And last but not least, what’s your name?” Tom asks number ten.

“Drew. I met Callie on the circuit. We trained for the Olympics in the same club, and spent a bit of what free time we had together.”

“So you’re a gymnast as well?”

Nothing gets past Tom.

“Was, yes.”

“Well, it’s been a pleasure meeting all of you,” Tom says as a crewmember walks over and hands him an envelope. “And the winner is…” He opens it and reads. “With eight out of ten correct...Jasmine!”

Excited she won, I give her a big hug and come eye to eye with Emma over her shoulder. I don’t say anything, but I’m relieved she’s no longer glaring at me. Instead, there’s the tiniest hint of a smile on her lips.

“Congrats, Jas,” Emma says when I release her.

“Congratulations, Jasmine.” Tom hands over a key. “The Posh Suite is all yours tonight. I think you’ll enjoy the room. Now there
are
cameras installed, but at least you have a lock to keep anyone you wish out,” Tom adds, his face lighting up. “And before I forget, our guests will be spending the night. Enjoy yourselves!”

“I know I will,” Ian chimes in, his sickening display of lust focused on Jasmine.

Confessional: Jasmine Cox

“I’m hiding out in here since Jensen’s waiting for me to unlock the Posh Suite. This seems the only place to escape my past that I’m tired of reliving over and over again. My name’s Miranda Miller, and I’m already retired from the industry. I like Air Supply and Nicholas Sparks movies, damn it! I have a cat and a parakeet—my cousin’s watching them. And I CANNOT BELIEVE IAN AND BRANDI ARE HERE!

“I brought Jensen, and I’m willing to pay for that mistake…and boy am I, because it was my decision! But this? Why would they do this—blindside and totally humiliate us on TV? Make me feel two feet tall?

“I’m not here for exposure. I AM RETIRED! I’m here to help charities, try to give back, and show the world the real me, and this is how you treat people who are trying to be nice—exploit their every weakness, regret, and shortcoming? How fucked up is that?

“I did not sign up for this shit, and will never forgive anyone responsible. Yes, I mean you, asshole! Mr. Charming Producer better steer clear of me tonight. Different, my ass.

“Everybody better stay the hell outta my way, or I’ll smash this bottle over their head…once it’s empty.”

Chapter 22

The house is cramped with all the new company, eager to chitchat and flirt, but I’m not feeling social. I grab some lunch and an entire bottle of white wine before heading outside, avoiding everyone I can. I settle into the hammock with my plate resting on my belly, taking a moment and a deep breath. It’s early afternoon, and the sun is still high over the palm trees that offer their warm shade.

Once I finish my food—and, to my horror, half the bottle of wine—I close my eyes and fall into the paradise of slumber.

“Sure does look relaxing.”

I wake to see Adam walking toward me, serious as always, but with an air of kindness. “Hate to interrupt, but I need you to make some kind of appearance in the house tonight.”

Tonight?
I notice the sun’s already setting, a cool breeze easing in. How long was I asleep? Not sure if it was the peace of the hammock or the wine that helped me sleep, but I silently thank them both.

“Doubt I’ll be any fun.” I sit up, my head laden with a slight buzz. I place my feet on the ground and stretch my arms above my head.

He stares out at the water. “Just stick around for an hour or so. That’s all I’m asking.”