I groaned and buried my face in my hands again.
‘Shit, sorry, sorry,’ he said hurriedly. ‘That came out wrong. I don’t want you to think I helped you out just because it would look good on TV. I was genuinely worried about you.’
‘That’s not it,’ I said, scrubbing my hands over my face and then balling them at my sides because I didn’t know what else to do with them. ‘It’s the whole damsel in distress bit. I’m going to look like such an idiot. Like, you know they’re going to give me an edit where I look like I’m throwing a tantrum because you eliminated me, and then I definitely won’t get any sponcon, and… uggggghhhhhhh.’
‘Is that why you’re here? Sponcon?’
‘… Yes,’ I admitted.
Dylan let out a long breath. He turned away from me and wrapped his fingers around the verandah railing.
It was absolutely the wrong time to notice what a great profile he had, but some things were just indisputable facts.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I know I’m supposed to be here for the right reasons or whatever. I probably took a spot away from someone who could have genuinely been your girlfriend.’
He didn’t say anything.
‘Look, don’t get me wrong, you’re super hot,’ I said, aware I was starting to babble again but unable to stop it. ‘But I lost my job because of the pandemic. This was my last shot. My last chance to keep my head above water. That hundred bucks a day they give us for being on this show was my lifeline. And now I don’t even have that.’
‘Why wouldn’t you have that?’
‘What?’
‘You’re still here,’ he said. ‘You can’t go anywhere for the next six weeks. You can’t contact anyone. You can’t look for work. They should pay you the daily rate.’
‘In my experience,’ I said, ‘?“should” and “will” do something are very different things.’
‘Cecilia,’ he said, looking over at me, ‘you’re going to get paid. I will personally make sure that you get paid.’
Something in me unknotted, and my legs felt abruptly unstable. ‘Thank you,’ I said, my voice wobbling. ‘I really mean that. You don’t even—I can’t even tell you how much—’
‘Hey, hey, don’t cry!’
Dylan let go of the verandah railing and put his arms around me, pulling me into him.
It was the first hug I’d had in weeks. My arms snaked around his waist without me even being aware of it. I didn’t know it was a thing I’d been missing, something as simple as a hug, but it was all I could do not to scale him like a tree and wrap every part of myself around him.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said into his shoulder. ‘You’ve known me for five minutes, and I’ve still managed to fall apart on you, like, twelve times.’
Most of my brain was in crisis mode, trying to stop me from bursting into full-blown tears (again), but there was enough of it left to note that I wouldn’t mind falling apart some more if it meant falling apart on his pecs. Dylan was ripped.
‘It’s okay,’ he said, patting my back a bit awkwardly. ‘It’s all okay, promise.’
I pulled back, sniffling. I could have hugged him for a lot longer, but I was already mortified enough without getting snot on his shirt.
‘You’re a really nice man,’ I said. ‘Do you know that? Do people tell you that? I feel like they should tell you that.’
It might have been a trick of the late-afternoon sun, but I swear he blushed. ‘Can I put that on my business cards?’ he asked. ‘?“Dylan Jayasinghe Mellor, Really Nice Man, signed Cecilia—” Sorry, I don’t know your surname.’
‘James,’ I said. ‘And it’s Cece. You can call me Cece.’
‘Well, Cece, it’s nice to meet you,’ Dylan said. ‘Properly, this time. While you’re wearing sensible shoes.’
‘Here’s an idea,’ I said. He might have been blushingbefore, but I was definitely blushing now. ‘How about we don’t mention that disaster on the driveway? Like, ever again?’
He chuckled. ‘What happened?’ he asked. ‘I’ve never seen someone look so much like a deer in the headlights.’
‘I wish I could tell you,’ I said. ‘I’ve never liked being the centre of attention, but this was a special new low. It was like I noticed the cameras and my brain melted out of my ears. Then I started thinking about how absolutely screwed I would be if I didn’t make you like me, and I just…’
