“Ryan, this is going to make everything worse. The other girls already hate me.”
He steps into the room and closes the door behind him. “So what? Let them hate you. In two weeks this whole thing will be over and none of their opinions will matter.”
“You’re not the one they’re calling a fraud.”
“You’re not a fraud, Wren.”
“Aren’t I? I’m not here for the right reasons, Ryan. I’m here because Elena paid me to be here. The other contestants, they’re actually looking for love. I’m just playing a role.”
“And what about now? Are you still just playing a role?”
The question hangs between us and I can’t answer it because I don’t know anymore. When I signed up for this job, it was supposed to be simple. Play the villain, cause some drama, collect my paycheck. But nothing about this feels simple anymore.
“I came onto this show with no goal in mind other than to get a promotion. But lately, all I’ve been able to think about is you,” I admit quietly. “You’re in my head. You’re what I think about before I go to sleep at night. What would you say that is?”
His gaze sharpens. “Well, whatever it is, we’ve got forty-eight hours to figure it out.”
A PA opens the door, clipboard in hand. He looks between us then waves us out the door. “Ready to go?”
I shoulder my bag and follow them downstairs, trying to ignore the stares and whispers from the other contestants. Ryanwalks beside me, close enough that our arms brush with every step.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“It’s a surprise,” the PA says cheerfully.
Of course it is. Because this whole situation isn’t stressful enough without adding mystery destinations to the mix.
The car is waiting outside, black and sleek and probably worth more than I’ll make in five years. Ryan opens the door for me and I slide onto the leather seats, my bag clutched in my lap like a shield.
The car door shuts with a soft click that sounds like a lock. I swallow hard. It feels like a trap disguised as a getaway.
“You okay?” he asks once we’re both settled and the driver pulls away from the mansion.
“Define okay.”
He reaches over and takes my hand, threading our fingers together. It should comfort me, but instead, it makes everything feel more real. More dangerous.
“It’s going to be fine,” he says.
“You don’t know that.”
“No, I don’t. But I know that I want to find out what happens when it’s just you and me without all the noise.”
I look out the window at the city lights flashing by. “What if we don’t like what we find?”
“Then at least we’ll know.”
His thumb strokes across my knuckles and I try not to think about how good it feels. How right. Because in forty-eight hours, this little bubble is going to burst and we’ll be back to reality. Back to cameras and eliminations and the inevitable moment when Ryan has to choose someone.
“Wren,” he says quietly.
“Yeah?”
“Whatever happens this weekend, I want you to know… picking you wasn’t just easy. It was inevitable.”
My throat goes tight and I have to look away before I do something stupid like cry. Because as terrifying as this all is, part of me is relieved. Part of me has been waiting for this moment since the first time he kissed me.
Forty-eight hours to figure out if what we have is real or just really good television.
