Page 112 of Alice Chen's Reality Check
As if he can read my mind, Daniel says, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about letting Selena win. I should have talked to you first.”
I take a deep breath and force myself to pull away from him. “It’sokay. You don’t have to say you’re sorry. You don’t owe me anything.”
“Alice.” Daniel takes ahold of my shoulders, his gaze intense. “Of course I owe you that much. We’re in a relationship.”
“A fake relationship,” I remind him. “This has always been a business arrangement. An act to stay on the show. You have every reason to still care about Selena. To love her. I don’t get to ask for more from you.” I turn to leave. I don’t want him to see the tears welling up in my eyes. I’m furious with myself. This is all fake. Why am I crying?
Daniel catches my hand.
“I’m not in love with her,” he says quietly.
“You don’t have to say that.” My voice is starting to wobble.
Now he takes my other hand, turning me so we’re fully facing each other. I’m finding it hard to look directly at him. I pray that my tears don’t start spilling over, but I think it’s too late.
“I’m telling you because it’s true,” Daniel says, his voice low. “I went easy on Selena because, well, Selena grew up in a violent household. She’s talked about it on other shows before, so it’s not a secret, and she’s gone to therapy to deal with her trauma. But when we were competing over that mud pit, I could tell that the whole situation wasn’t good for her. I didn’t want to make things worse.”
“Oh,” I say. I remember how shaken Selena looked on the bridge, the way she froze up. “So it wasn’t because…”
Daniel sighs. “Selena and I just got together, remember? I had fun with her, and I like to think we’ll stay friends after this. But I don’t have any deep attachment to her. Not like you and Chase. The two of you were engaged. I’m sure you still have feelings for him, especially after hearing how he feels about you—”
“No,” I say. I can sense the truth of my feelings rising to the surface, and I’m done being afraid. I’m done being in denial. I look out the window at the beach outside, as if the view could give me courage. “I mean, I still care about him, but I’m not in love with him anymore.”
Daniel’s thumb comes up to swipe a tear from my cheek, and I meet his gaze.
“Really,” he says, almost a whisper. “And what changed?”
“I did, in a way,” I say quietly. “Because I’ve come to realize something.”
I’m leaning in, and suddenly we’re both moving into each other, Daniel’s hands coming up to frame my face. His eyes flick down to my mouth, then back up to meet my gaze. There’s that unreadable look on his face again, the one I keep seeing at random moments—when I’m telling a bad joke, or when we’re brushing our teeth together, or—oh, god—when he’s about to kiss me.
I hadn’t known before what that look meant, but now I do.
“What did you realize?” he prompts.
“I don’t actually dislike you,” I whisper.
I don’t know who moves in first, but I do know that Daniel laughs into our first kiss, our first real kiss between us, a light touch of my lips to the generous curve on his. One of his hands stays on my cheek, sweetening the angle, while the other curls around me to anchor us together at the small of my back. We stay there for a moment, warmth rushing to my cheeks.
“I don’t actually dislike you either,” he murmurs. “Quite the opposite, actually.”
There’s something fragile and secret in the close space between us, and it’s so unbelievably easy to lift my mouth to his again, to tilt my head, to pick up where we left off.
My brain is usually an unending stream of thoughts and worries, but with every press of his mouth against mine, my world narrows down to only Daniel. With his hands sliding down my waist, I barely notice how my clothes still cling to me from the rain, and the shiver that runs through me is not from the cold air on my damp skin but from his body pressing me into the wall, a solid weight warming me through and through.
“Alice,” Daniel breathes as he breaks the kiss. I try to catch my breath before he takes advantage of our new position to kiss my throat down to my collarbone, turning his warmth into fire. “Is this okay?”he whispers into my skin as he nudges the strap of my sundress off my shoulder.
I nod, and he starts alternating between blisteringly hot openmouthed kisses and tantalizing nips, driving me wild as he follows the slope of my neckline to my chest and up again, leaving a blaze in his wake. He sucks a love bite into my neck, and I’m suddenly desperate to touch him, to return the favor and make him feel even a fraction of the heat inside me.
I can’t let Daniel win, I think dizzily, and it’s the best kind of competition now. I slip my hands under his shirt, greedily sweeping my hands along the planes of his back and over his broad shoulders. He, in turn, peels my sundress down past the dip of my waist and over the curve of my hips. I angle my head up again to capture his mouth, and he moans into the kiss, tracing a single sensual line down my spine.
This isn’t enough.
I push at him. “Off, off, off,” I chant frantically, tugging his damp shirt from his shorts. His mouth chases mine as I tear his shirt off him and toss it behind us. He’s kissing me again before I can even thumb the button open on his shorts. Our ability to multitask is really tested when we both fumble with the rest of our clothes—the zipper of his shorts and the hooks of my bra—but we succeed eventually.
Daniel’s gaze sweeps over me, and for a brief moment I feel almost self-conscious. How can I possibly compare to whoever’s in his past? But he smiles gently, his hand coming up to cup my cheek.
“Is this okay? We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want,” he says.
