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Ken Lynch Lens and Ben the Brawn took up the role of director and sound engineer. Bonita seemed too anxious to work, preferring to explore the surroundings.
I accompanied her when I could. With seven of us, I had to be careful not to be overbearing or suffocating. In a foreign land, in a billionaire’s mansion, Bonita’s behavior had already changed quite drastically. She was far less reserved, more demonstrative, more tactile.
When she conversed with Ben, she touched him on the cheek, and her fingers traced his jaw as if she were admiring the artistry of a statue. When she talked with Will, she touched him on the arm, and I saw her knuckles go white from the grip. When she had a chat with Landon, her hand slid slowly up his back before coming to a rest on his shoulder.
I had to fight the jealousy creeping up inside me. They were my friends—at least Ben, Will and Ken were, and the others were good, fun guys. I couldn’t hate them for flirting. It wasn’t as if Bonita were my girl. Hell, they didn’t even know I had a thing for her, except maybe Ken. Nothing got past Ken.
After I shot my introduction for the camera, I went in search of Bonita. It was now or never. The competition was stiff—probably in more ways than one.
I found her in the entertainment room, which we had dubbed Polar Trinity because of the three identical collections of fur rugs and fur loveseats. She was talking with Trevor, and thankfully her hands were in her pockets.
“Hey, guys,” I said, sounding surprisingly casual despite the strong emotions that stirred in me.
“What’s up?” said Trevor.
I lied. “I think Ken needs you in the studio.”
He turned to Bonita. “Duty calls.”
“Tell Duty I said hi.”
I watched Trevor leave, and as soon as he turned the corner, I took my chance. I rushed over to Bonita, took her hands out of her pockets, held them tight and pulled her close to me.
“Noah, what are you doing?”
“Following my desire,” I replied. “What are you doing?” I guided her hand onto my butt and the other I placed on the back of my neck. My hands slid around her waist to the small of her back. I pulled her in tight against my body, so she could feel how hard I was for her, so she could feel what I meant by desire.
“Noah! But you’re my brother’s best friend.”
“That’s true. It’s also true that I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long.” I ran my hand firmly up her side, cupped her chin, and pulled her mouth against mine. She did not resist.
We kissed.
My hands explored her, mimicking the motions of my lips and my tongue. Our bodies pressed together and released, mimicking our quickening breaths.
She pulled away.
“Noah, we can’t.
“We can’t? We just did.” I pulled her again close to me, but she eased me away.
“What about the others?” she said.
“What about them?”
She turned from me and walked over to the curtains. “Wow, Noah. I didn’t see that coming.”
I followed her to the curtains but gave her a few steps of space. “You really had no idea?”
She smiled sheepishly. “Maybe a little idea. But I never thought—”
I rushed over to her and took her hands in mine. “Enough thinking.”
She pulled her hands free. She touched me on the cheek and stroked my jaw—the same way I’d seen her touch Ben earlier. “Noah, you’re sweet.”
“Sweet? I’m not sweet.”
She laughed. “I mean, I like you. I really do, but…” She walked slowly away, her hand gliding across the curtains, leaving ripples in its wake.
“Don’t tell me that passion wasn’t real,” I said.
She turned to me. Her expression now carried something far more serious. “Of course, it was real. That’s just it.”
“I don’t follow.”
“The passion I feel is real,” she said. “I feel a lot of passion. Imagine, I’m cooped up in my house most of the time with overprotective parents. Now, I’m free. I’m in a foreign country with seven fun, sexy guys.”
“I understand.” I slowed the lump in my throat and tried not to let my disappointment show.
“Do you?” she asked.
I nodded. “I think so.”
“I don’t even understand it, myself. All this is new to me.” She turned in a circle, her arms extended as if she were showering in her newfound environment. “I don’t know what I’m feeling exactly. And I don’t want to hurt you.”
I was about to respond with an objective about how strong I am, how I can take it, how it’s worth a try when Trevor came back.
“We can’t agree on the shot,” he said to Bonita. “You’re going to have to make an executive decision.”
At seven o’clock on the dot, a man who introduced himself as Dan came to escort us to the breakfast room where Sasha Snow was expecting us. We passed the same corridors we’d passed hours ago. The second time seeing them didn’t make them any less impressive or mysterious.
