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“That felt like a bit of rage sex,” I say, only half-joking.
He returns my look and shrugs, still struggling to catch his own breath. “So what if it was?”
“As long as that rage isn’t focused on me,” I reply, twining my fingers with his. He snorts, and the door to the coatroom opens, leaving us to scramble in unison.
Gabe barely manages to slide into his pants before a worker peers around the corner, the bodice of my dress revealing far more than the garment should, my disheveled hair and makeup telling the obvious tale.
The acne-scarred twenty-something smirks at us through his braces-adorned teeth.
“I guess we know who’s winning this season ofHeart’s Desire, huh?” he chortles.
“I’ll give you five hundred dollars if you don’t tell anyone we’re here and find us a mirror,” Gabe says, taking charge like always.
The young man’s eyes pop eagerly. “Yes, sir!” He spins around to do as Gabe requested.
I grimace and watch him leave. “Do you think he can be trusted?”
“Probably not,” Gabe replies. “But we bought ourselves a bit of time to get out of here before he gets back, and then it will be his word against ours if it comes out.”
He winks at me, and I have to laugh at his genius thinking.
We quickly finish dressing and size each other up, Gabe fixing my hair and me adjusting his wayward tux before we slip out into the hall, looking both ways to ensure we aren’t watched.
Gabe extends his arm and pulls me closer. “So, are you going to pick me?” he asks lightly as we return to the ballroom.
I stop in my tracks and gape at him. “Do you care?” I reply. “I mean… it doesn’t matter, does it? This is all fake.”
He shrugs as if he isn’t bothered, continuing to lead us through the hall.
“Nope. It doesn’t matter,” he says again, even though his body language speaks a different tune, his face shadowing.
Why do I get the distinct impression that he’s lying and hopes I pick him?
CHAPTER 22
Forrest
“Is this a joke?” I demand as we step out of the Hummer to take in the building in front of us. Over the three days we’re spending in LA, Anya is determined to cram in another three dates for all of us, but this was not what I had expected.
I whip my head around to look at the other car approaching and stalk toward the camera crew, who scramble to begin recording my reaction.
“Forrest!” Stella calls from behind me, her footsteps echoing in my ears, but I barely notice them as I approach Anya. Her smug expression already answers my question before I ask it, piling out behind the cameramen.
“This is Gabriel’s forte, not ours,” I bark at the director.
“You don’t even know what the challenge is,” she insists, not losing the leer. She’s enjoying my discomfort too much.
Stella takes my arm and guides me away from the director.
“Whatever’s waiting for us inside those doors, we can manage. Together,” she breathes, her words taking me down a notch.
I glower at Anya, who continues to smirk, but I follow Stella toward the brewery in front of us, annoyed as hell.
“I swear, they’re out to sabotage us,” I grumble.
“Maybe they’re just shaking things up,” Stella suggests in her usual, optimistic way, and I can’t help but feel a rush of affection toward her. Her continued optimism is what’s making this whole shitshow bearable, despite the circumstances surrounding us.
Four of us, living together in a cabin, pretending to vie for her love, even though we fully had her when the cameras stopped rolling.
