Matched (39 page)

I agree and follow her out to the pool, but it doesn’t sit well with me at all. I know Miranda—saw how she looked at Adam—and this wall she has up is just that. Deep down, it has to be eating at her. But in the interest of everyone being able to enjoy a day of quiet, I drop it…for now.

Emma’s bath must’ve been a short one, considering she’s currently lounging in the pool. Her arms are draped over the side, and Court’s next to her.

“No vay!” Nadia splashes Jensen in the shallow end of the pool when he creeps up her legs. “You such a pig!”

So much for a hostile-free environment. Just the sight of those two sets my blood boiling.

I speed over to Cruz, who’s standing behind the bar, making a drink. “Adam kicked Jensen out. Why’s he still here?” I ask in a hushed voice.

Cruz slides the fruity concoction my way. “Wasn’t his call to make.”

“Seriously?” I sink down onto the bar stool across from him, taking a sip.

“What do you think?”

“That I’m gonna kick him in the boys if he goes anywhere near Miranda.”

Cruz’s low chuckle is absolutely intoxicating. He rests his elbows on the bar and leans forward, his eyes riveted to mine. “I meant the drink.”

I offer a sheepish smile and take another sip. “Delicious. Thank you.”

“Mojito. Figured you might like it, since you tend to stray from beer.”

“You noticed that?”

“I notice a lot when it comes to you.”

Our knuckles graze when I plant my feet on the bottom rung of the stool and push myself closer. “A beer’s good, just like to mix it up and try new things too.”

“I know the feeling.” His thumb rubs across mine. The world around us ceases to exist; cameras be damned.

“Based on Veronica, I’d say you’re definitely mixing things up by playing with me.” My breath hitches when he rears back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”
Shit, me and my mouth.
And after only two sips of alcohol, I don’t even have
that
to blame for killing the mood.

I close my eyes, searching for a better apology, only to open them and find him gone.
No!
I’m about to whirl around when I feel him at my back, breath against my ear, hands curling around my stomach.

“Veronica and I never happened. Other than a few short occasions screwing around after a tournament to blow off some steam, I hardly knew her. Never fucked her.”

My head bobs, body flaming at his close proximity. A finger discreetly skims over my bare stomach as his voice lowers to a whisper. “And I need this to be real clear. I’m not playing with you, Harlow. I watched you from day one, stumbling around, trying to justify a relationship that was nothing more than old friends living in the past. I don’t mind Oakley—hell, he brought you here, and he wasn’t stupid enough to fuck around on you for the world to see, so I’m good with the guy. And as hard as it was to watch, I respect the fuck out of you for how hard you tried to make it work. Most girls would’ve walked away a lot sooner.”

I peek over my shoulder, trembling at the power in his stare. “He’ll always be a friend.”

“I know. That’s one of the many things I admire about you. You’re kind, cute as sin, and I want to do a lot more than play, Harlow. I’m not an idiot. I know you and him just broke up, and I’m gonna give you time to get straight on that.”

“I’m alrea—”

He’s shaking his head. “I couldn’t care less about the bullshit gossip mill that’s gonna start when the show airs, but you…I won’t let you get bashed on TV, jumping into something with me one or two episodes after you ended it with him.”

It’s the first time I realize that the last few weeks will be summed up in only a dozen or so hour-long episodes. I think of the reality shows I’ve watched, criticizing and judging the people on them for actions I only got a glimpse of. The emotions and tensions they endured rarely mattered to or were ever considered by me. If a girl hopped from one guy to another, she’d be considered one thing by the mass audience.

I can’t stomach it. I lower my head to hide the shame I feel.

“Hey, look at me.” He lifts my chin. “They don’t see everything I do. The people in this house—your friends—know the truth...saw it all unravel…but I don’t want to create a storm. Not gonna lie—it’ll kill me not to touch you the way I want.” His fingers tease the flesh around my navel then retreat, his hand settling on my shoulder innocently before he continues.

“It’s not about that, though. I’m happy just having you close and talking…discovering everything that makes you
you
. I want something real here, Harlow—no games, no playing. I want you in every way. I may not have the best track record with girls, but I think my smartest move here would be to start things slow…as friends.”

“Friends?” I’m not sure if I should be flattered, angry, or sad. “We’re already—I mean, I already consider you a friend.”

He swivels the stool so I’m facing him, capturing my knees to steady me. “Yeah, you are, but I want it stronger—a foundation that can withstand all the shit anyone can throw at us. I want your absolute trust in me—to be the first one you come to when you need a friend.” He dips his mouth to my ear and murmurs, “Oh, and I’m looking forward to watching you squirm every time I get the chance to do this.”

His lips brush the faintest kiss to my cheek before he moves away. With a promising smirk on his lips, he dives into the pool. The tingle that zips through my body reaches the tips of my toes, leaving a mutiny of hysterical nerves sizzling with anticipation.

Confessional: Emma McCall

“I’m back! And yes, I feel amazing. I know they stationed a cameraman outside the hospital, so I’m sure you all know I had a little scare, but I promise I’m fine. So let’s talk about something happier—or how about sexier, like Court?

“I swear, that man…gah! Not sure how to sum up how I feel about him, honestly. He’s sweet, no doubt about that, and I know how he feels—he’s made it very clear. And as much as I hate what he did with Ivy¸ he’s gone above and beyond to make up for it. I’d like to think I have the willpower to tell him to screw off once and for all, but I can’t. And I no longer want to, because I’ve seen his heart. He’s shown it over and over again, and that means more than anything else.

“When I came home this morning, he was in our room, waiting for me, ready for anything I needed. And not in the pansy-ass, whipped-puppy kind of way. The man stands his ground on plenty, believe me! It was near impossible to convince him to leave the hospital. I had to downright bribe him…not that I minded. And today, when I took a bath, he stood outside the door the entire time in case I needed help. The man refused to budge on the issue, and it’s impossible to resist when he takes me in his arms, clearing all my insecurities and inexperience, guiding me into the perfect kiss.

“He’s the most charming and kind man I’ve ever met, and I know that I’m falling for him hard. It’s the scariest feeling, the unknown…putting yourself out there, hoping you won’t get burned. But he makes it feel easy and safe.

“There’s only eight people left in the house, so I know it’ll only be a matter of time before it all ends and we go back to our old lives. Not sure what will happen then, but right now, in paradise, it’s only me and him. For the first time in my life, I’m ready to take that enormous leap of faith and give myself to the one man who has earned it.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this and Court has no idea, but that promise I made him…it’s for a part of myself I never thought I’d find someone worthy to give to. I’ve never felt so alive, so cherished, as when I’m with him. And before I leave this island and risk never seeing him again, I want to give everything I have to offer to Court Callahan.

“Okay, that felt good to get out. Let’s hope it doesn’t backfire now. I need some wood to knock on or something. How about you all just wish me luck? I could really use it!”

Chapter 28

I spend most of the day bouncing around the pool, flirting with Cruz when I get the chance. Jensen steers clear of Miranda, even before I corner him by the bar and make the future of his balls clear if he doesn’t.

By the time the sun sets over the water, we’ve all migrated down to the beach and are surrounding a bonfire, roasting marshmallows. Even Nadia is on her best behavior; turns out she’s tolerable in small doses when she puts forth a little effort. I mean, let’s be real—she’s still a bitch—but I’m grateful she’s reining it today.

I’m sitting cross-legged next to Cruz, roasting my fourth marshmallow and basking in every slight touch of his hand with every tiny move I make.

“Okay, enough for you. Let me show you how it’s done.” Cruz grabs my twig and, ignoring my dramatic scowl, flings my gooey mess into the fire and shoves a new fluffy marshmallow on the end.

“Hey, that one was actually edible!” My defense is a complete and utter lie.

He looks my way, one challenging brow cocked.

“Fine,” I drawl. “I give up. I don’t have the patience to wait for it to turn all perfect and golden.”

“Lucky for you, I know what I’m doing.” A slow, tantalizing grin sharpens his features.

My nipples perk up at the insinuation in his tone. And he’s got skills, all right. Without shoving the stick straight into the flame as I’d been doing, or hovering it over the top and waiting forever, he places it just close enough that it only takes a few moments before he’s pulling it out of the pit and holding it to my lips.

Dear God.
The look glistening in his eyes is aphrodisiacal when he nudges it closer, my lips parting to welcome the warm sweetness. His cobalt eyes flicker between my own and my lips until a shuffling sound behind us suddenly interrupts.

We turn in unison to see a cameraman a little too close for comfort.

Cruz clears his throat and pulls off what’s left of the marshmallow, shoving it in his mouth and returning his attention to the fire. My belly clenches as I watch the muscles in his throat, completely mesmerized as he swallows, smiling at the thought of my lips and his sharing something so delicious.

I settle into my spot, with an undeniable ache to lean into him and snuggle close like Emma and Court are across from us. She’s sitting between his legs with her head propped back against his chest, and not a word of protest has yet to come from Cruz. There’s a serene air among everyone—a sense of kinship and camaraderie. There’s no drama or fighting; all of us are enjoying the peaceful moment in time.

Everyone, that is, except Miranda. She sat at the fire for a few minutes with her gaze trained on the ocean before she got up and started walking toward it. Since then, she’s been walking the long stretch of beach silently, stopping occasionally to pick something up and tuck it into her pocket.

“She’ll be fine,” Cruz whispers.

“He should’ve talked to her before he left, or at least said goodbye.” I take the stick and try my hand at roasting another marshmallow. “He’s a dick for leaving like that, and you can’t expect me to think otherwise.”

Cruz sighs but doesn’t disagree. “He’s a private guy.”

“Then he should’ve talked to her
privately
.” I thrust the stick into the flames, watching another failed attempt as my marshmallow lights up in a crispy mess.

I feel Cruz watching me, my body tensing when I peer over at his considering expression.

“You trust me?”

I set the twig down beside me, unsure where he’s going with his question but determined to answer honestly. “Yes.”

A grin curves his lips. “Like hearing that.” He sits up on his haunches, turning his attention to Emma and Court.

“Where are you going?”

A moment passes before he angles his head, puts his lips next to my ear, and whispers so softly I barely hear him, “Get Miranda. Walk down the beach about half a mile or so until you spot the trail with a red sign, then beeline it that way. Keep on it till you see me.”

They’ll follow, I mouth.

“Trust.” He winks at me, then stands and walks around the fire toward Court and Emma. He watches them closely, his face twisting up the longer he does.

What the hell is he doing?

“Hey, Court. We should talk.”

I slip on my sandals quickly, catching Emma roll her eyes. Court kisses the side of her head, then hauls himself to his feet.

“Yeah, what’s up?” He stops in front of Cruz, and I can’t look away.

“You really think I’m gonna let you sit there with your hands all over my sister, asshole?” Cruz shouts, getting in Court’s face.

“Not much you can fuckin’ do about it!” Court comes right back with.

Holy shit, what is he doing?
And worse, what is Emma
not
doing? Instead of jumping in the middle to break it up, she’s slow to even stand.

“Stop it, both of you.” Okay, I hear the words leave her mouth, but she’s not looking as pissed as I’d expect.

“You want to be allowed near Emma, you better watch those fucking hands!” Cruz growls, looking deadly serious.

“Or what? You hit me, your ass is gone, and then my hands have free rein.”

It clicks then. Emma not freaking out, Court coming back at Cruz? I back away from the scene that has drawn both the cameramen closer, focused solely on them.

God, I have a smart man.
I still as I repeat the thought.
Is Cruz my man?
I don’t know, but he
is
smart, and that’s what counts right now.

“Whoa, calm down, fellas.” Jensen attempts to wedge himself between them. Gigantic mistake, because Court and Cruz both turn on him like bloodthirsty wolves.

“Nobody’s fucking talking to you, dipshit!” Cruz is now in his face.

Court prowls around behind him and I take off in a sprint toward Miranda, who’s standing on the shore, her eyes transfixed on the guys’ standoff.

“What the hell’s going on?” she asks quickly.

I snake my arm through hers, dragging her away. “Shhh, come on.”