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Day 13

My make-out sessionwith Lennon ended before I was ready for it to. He’d made his point. He’s an amazing kisser. Gentle but passionate. Giving. He made me feel more in the short time we kissed than I felt all the times I kissed Wren. It was a kiss I will never forget as long as I live. I could still taste the minty flavor of his gum hours later as I made my way to the pool to meet up with everyone else.

Lennon was already there. Hanging out with Jace of all people. It made me nervous. I was expecting tension between them, but they appeared to be totally cool. Well, I wasn’t. They’d both just kissed me senseless within an hour of each other. I was confused beyond belief. The overwhelming feeling made it hard for me to breathe, let alone think, so I didn’t stay long.

I needed quiet. I needed to talk to Naomi.

First thing this morning, I called her.

After telling her everything about the day before, and the week leading up to it, catching her up on everything I hadn’t told her, even the things I’d originally left out, I ask the one question I needed her to answer honestly.

“Does it make me a slut?”

“What? Kissing both of them? That’s why you’re there, Pres,” she states firmly. When I don’t say anything, she continues, “No, it doesn’t make you a slut. Listen, a big part of the reason I convinced you to go is so you would experience this.”

“Kissing?” I ask, confused.

“No, feeling. You were dead inside. Wren wrecked you. He tore out your heart and stomped on it. The only way for you to move on was to force you into it. Blind dates weren’t going to do it. You would have come home and complained to me about the stupidest shit and found a reason not to go out on a second date. There, you have no choice. You’re literally trapped. So figure it out.

“Who revs your engine? Who ignites that spark inside you that Wren tried to extinguish? You don’t have to decide now. Kiss all of them. Just make a decision before you start inviting them into your bed. You can only have one.”

One. Not two. Not all six. Though Gage is not even in competition with the rest of them. I’d rather cut my own arm off than kiss him again.

“You’ll know when you know. Don’t try and force it. Don’t look for the answer. Let yourself feel, Presley. I can’t stress that enough. If you do, you’ll feel more than you want but you’ll also figure out what you already know.”

“What I already know?”

“Who you choose,” she states simply.

“Does it sound like I have any idea what the right choice is at the moment? I have no idea what I’m doing. I feel like I’m being pulled in two directions and I’m going to be ripped in half any second.” I let out a huff of frustration thinking back to the events of yesterday. The short-lived, erotic kiss Jace and I shared. The more passionate, gentle kiss with Lennon.

“Exactly. Let that feeling sink in. Get used to it. It’s going to be a long while before it dissipates and you realize you’re letting one go because you want the other. You will figure it out, though.”

“Right. Let’s hope that happens before someone gets hurt, or worse, someone goes home and the decision is taken away from me.”

“Do you think one of them is going home soon?”

“No. They’re too nice. Everyone loves them. All the girls are crushing on them.”

“Who’s being voted off the island then?” she jokes, a hint of laughter in her voice.

Laugh it up, bitch. You’re the one who put me on this island.

I tell her about Gage, his outbursts, and lack of social skills. No class. No decorum. It’s sad, really, because he’s a good-looking guy with potential. He just needs to get his attitude in check before he pushes away any chance at love.

“Send him my way. I’ll put his ass in a timeout he won’t forget.” She’s using her no-nonsense teacher voice. I have a feeling she would crush Gage with only a glance, but that’s not who I want to send her way.

“Actually,” I start, but she immediately begins fighting me off. I don’t even have a chance to tell her about Callen before she feigns an excuse to let me go and hangs up on me.

Sorry, friend, but you’re going to be bombarded one day, the way you bombarded me with this idea. And his name is Callen. He’s a sexy package, and I may just wrap a big red bow around his broad shoulders before I drop him on your doorstep. After all, what are friends for?

When I first looked atthe schedule, I was confused as to how an egg race fit into the mock Olympics. It sounds more like a game you would find at a children’s carnival. Probably because I was thinking I’d be balancing an egg on a plastic spoon as I ran across a stretch of land.

And I’m sure, at some point, I will. But that’s not all this game entails.

My eyes go wide as I approach the lawn where today’s event is set up. The course looks intense. Scratch that. It looks impossible. If we were competing in a tough man competition, I might understand some of the obstacles, but not for an egg race. I mean, how am I supposed to carry an egg if I’m climbing a rock wall?

“You ready for this?” Gage growls from behind me.

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