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I blink and swallow the burn in my throat, a basketball flying toward my face before I have a chance to react. Without warning, Gabe lunges in front of me and catches the ball, tossing it toward the basket, and gets three points as the crowd goes nuts. I’m thrown back into the present, the meeting thrust back into the past where it belongs. I have to focus onHeart’s Desirenow and the end of the season.
My heart races, the present rushing back around me. I’m not in the studio, surrounded by execs, being reamed out for being a rule-breaking nobody. I’m in the middle of a basketball game with college pros, and I’m about to be injured if I don’t get it together.
Bennet jogs toward me, concern shadowing his verdant irises as he runs a hand through his usually immaculate hair. Tonight, it’s a mess, disheveled and unkempt, sweat pouring down his face as he struggles to get any kind of a leg up against the Montana State players. To my right, Forrest leans on his knees, his handsome face twisting into a scowl as he reads the scoreboard.
“I think we’re getting our asses handed to us,” I whisper.
Bennet relaxes as Gabe rejoins us.
I give him a grateful smile, which I’m sure all the cameras catch, but it’s sincere. “Thank you.”
“For what?” he remarks. “Saving your life?” He winks as the whistle blows, and we’re off to the game again. “Come on, you two!” Gabe growls at his teammates. “I’m sick of carrying you both out there! Look alive!”
“Then stop hogging the damn ball!” Forrest barks back.
My heart tightens at their fighting, but I remind myself that it’s all for show, even though their glowers appear real, and the tension feels so high in those moments.
“It’s all good, boys!” I call out encouragingly. “Everyone’s doing great!”
The college kids cream us, scoring point after point, my basketball skills leaving much to be desired, and apparently, Forrest’s, too. Gabe and Bennet hold their own, and for that reason, both Forrest and I toss the ball to them anytime it happens to get near us—which isn’t often. I am ready to drop by the fourth quarter.
“Do we really have to play the whole game?” I wheeze. “Isn’t there enough footage?”
“I’m starting to think these ‘dates’ are just sadistic now,” Gabe replies dryly, but a competitive streak in him is loving this, I can tell. A part of me is enjoying watching him give it his all with Bennet as his backup.
But I am so thankful when the final whistle blows, and the game is called. Every single muscle in my body aches, and I want nothing more than to crawl into the hot tub back at the cabin. We line up to shake hands and thank the opposing team, their expressions amused.
“Good job, honey.”
“You played well.”
“You better choose the ball player. We’ve got the biggest cocks.”
My head jerks up at that comment, but I’m already being whisked down the line, away from the leering student who wasn’t wrong.
The boys are carted away together, and I’m set up by myself in an isolated changeroom, a security guard keeping watch outside as I dress in a casual but trendy outfit, picked by the costume designers.
Ensuring that my hair and makeup are presentable, I rejoin my castmates out in the hall, along with the camera crew—and an influx of Forrest’s fans. To my surprise, he doesn’t look happy to see them.
“The car’s waiting for us,” I announce crisply, sensing Forrest’s displeasure, and they follow me toward the exit as his fans squeal for autographs and selfies.
We finally make it to the waiting Hummer with the help of our security, and the new director, Anya, is waiting on the sidewalk outside the stadium. Her thick, ebony hair is swept into a high bun, two even curls encircling her bird-like face andaccenting her intelligent blue eyes. Hands folded in front of her pantsuit, she steps forward.
“That was good,” she says, ignoring me like she always does. She doesn’t like me, and that’s been made clear since she started. Someone has warned her about me being a troublemaker, would be my best guess. I have to prove her wrong.
She must have been pulled off another job at the behest of the studio for the program because of what happened with Roy, and she made no bones about showing her displeasure. “This will be good in the trailer.”
Without waiting for any of us to respond, she spins on her five-inch stilettos and marches off toward her waiting car as we pile into our vehicle.
“I stink,” Gabe complains when the door closes behind us. “They could have at least let us shower there.”
I shudder at the thought. “No, thanks. I’ll happily do that back home.”
Everyone stares at me, and I blush furiously as my own words hit my ears. Home. I’m calling the cabin “home.”
The cameraman adjusts his lens, and I know that’s definitely going to be on the show.
“You know what I mean,” I say nervously.
