“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Her fingers swipe the phoneopen. “I knew you guys eloped, but you didn’t mention it was a whole clandestine thing.”
“We were a bit out of it,” Adam offers, which probably didn’t need to be stated, if Mae spent any more than a few passing moments with us last night.
“No worries. I’ll take it down and get you guys registered for the game.”
“I don’t think we’ll be doing that,” I tell her.
Adam cuts me a sharp look, which baffles me until I see Mae lower her phone screen and lock it again. She smiles sweetly at me. “That’s a shame. It would really help me out. And since you needmeto helpyouout… maybe you could reconsider?”
“… Are you blackmailing me right now?”
“I mean, that feels a bit dramatic.” Mae’s nose wrinkles as she laughs. “But kind of, I guess. I’ll take down the post if you do this event.”
Unreal. Un-fucking-real. I open my mouth to light into Mae, but she rolls her eyes and beats me to the punch.
“It’s seriously not that big of a deal. It’ll take half an hour, tops. And the grand prize is twenty-five hundred, so it’s really a win-win situation.”
That gives me pause. “Twenty-five hundred dollars?”
She nods pleasantly. “You two are, like, relationship goals. You’ll probably win.”
I decide to ignore that comment, because it’s bonkers. Instead, I turn to face Adam, who is frowning in a way that suggests he is as baffled and resigned as I am.
“Still a few hours before the show,” I hedge, despite the anxiety building in my stomach. In an ideal world, I’d already be back at my hotel. I’d be showering and maybe squeezing ina nap because a few hours is barely enough time to get my head in the right place for tonight.
Adam checks his phone, like he doesn’t trust my ability to tell time. “Probably the best chance at getting the money without having to explain ourselves to anyone.”
Without anyone potentially learning we got married, is what he means. Which, again, is a goal he and I share. Even if I’m less inclined to constantly comment on how humiliating it would be if people found out.
I turn back to Mae. “So… I guess we’re doing this.”
“Yay!” She grins broadly at me, as though she didn’t have to twist my arm to get me to agree. She leads us around the first pool and through a row of cabanas, until we reach an open space near one of the bars. There’s a small stage set up, in view of two of the pool areas.
“We’ll be getting started in about twenty. Feel free to grab a drink on the house while you wait, okay?”
How generous. Too bad I’m never touching alcohol again.
She points to the stage. “The Ryan Seacrest look-alike testing the mic onstage is Jonathan, our MC. He’ll be over in a bit to give all of you guys a rundown of the rules and explain how the game is going to work.” She glances at the borderline-deserted patio area in front of the stage and purses her lips. “Meanwhile, I’m going to go wrangle up more of a crowd.”
Adam and I stand side by side, wearing twin frowns as we take in the group of people standing next to the stage, who I can only assume are the other contestants. They’re all dressed in resort wear, the men in board shorts and linen button-downs. Everyone is wearing some form of swimwear,come to think of it, which makes sense given we’re standing on a pool deck. I tug the hem of my cutoff shorts and feel too grungy for this scene.
Mae starts to step away, then hesitates, her purple lips scrunched to one side.
“Okay, I know I kind of roped you guys into this, but the idea is we want people excited to get married here. So can you at least pretend to be having fun? You’re newlyweds! Give us some PDA!”
While I watch Mae leave, Adam watches me. I feel his sidelong stare like a caress, starting at my neck and traveling all the way down my torso. I stand stock-still as he slides a stiff arm around me. His hand flutters over the curve of my waist for a moment before balling into a fist, which he rests featherlight against my hip bone, like he’s trying to minimize points of contact as much as possible.
“Jesus, if it’s that painful for you to touch me then forget it,” I snap, nudging his hand away from me.
It’s not like I’m thrilled with the prospect of getting onstage and pretending to be in love with Adam either. But given that the only alternative involves begging our loved ones to bail us out, I would think he could suck it up for an hour and quit acting like I have cooties.
He should be so lucky to land someone like me in real life. I’m a better-than-average cook, a tidy roommate, I don’t snore when I sleep. I’m like an LA eight and a Midwest ten. So contrary to what Adam seems to think, I am top-shelf wife material.
Adam shifts to stand behind me. His hands find my hips, and my breath hitches when he tugs me closer, so my back is flush against his chest. One of his hands shifts tosplay across my stomach. My abs tense. He dips his head so his lips skim the shell of my ear.
“I’m sorry for earlier. What I said about people thinking we’re involved.”
I shrug and try to relax my shoulders. “No big deal.”
