Chapter 6 #2
“No. It’s better,” I reply, grinning like an idiot because the guys will probably be bored to death.
West gives me what appears to be a doubtful look in the low light, it's hard to tell, but I won't let it kill my vibe. We finally reach our row, third from the front, and squeeze past knees and handbags. We mutter awkward apologies until we finally reach our seats and I drop into mine with an excited, satisfied sigh. Haze leans back immediately, crossing his arms as if he’s already bored. He's so dramatic.
“You’ll love it. Lighten up, Hazey baby,” I promise, even though I’m suddenly not as confident about that as I was five minutes ago.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
If they don’t enjoy this, they won’t let me organize another vacation again.
I’ve packed every spare second of this trip with something.
Shows, excursions… because I don’t just want pictures of things.
I want memories with them. Something we can all laugh about for years to come.
I refuse to let this vacation fade into the “remember that cruise we went on” category.
I want this to be epic.
“Is it a musical? I swear to fucking Christ, Beau, if—”
“Shh! It’s not a musical. Can you just not be the bane of my existence for like one hour?
” I whisper, and I notice that everyone around us is already staring.
West hasn't said more than a sentence since dinner. Since realizing Jovi is here. I’ll leave him to his thoughts, and hopefully the show is enough to loosen him up a little.
The lights dim further, and a hush ripples through the crowd. Haze reaches out to grip my hand, and I look over to see him smiling at me. Aww.
The heart projections spill forward, painting the floor in soft pinks and reds. A spotlight flicks on and a man strides out like a talk show host wearing a bejeweled suit, perfectly styled hair and a grin wide enough to sell veneers.
“Hello, hello, hello, Lovers!” he announces and the crowd breaks out in applause.
Everyone except West and Haze, but we knew they were sticks in the mud already.
“I'm Daniel Cupid and welcome to Cupid’s Confessionals, the only game show where honesty is mandatory, dignity is optional and kids, if any of you are in here, you don't want to be.”
“Fucking hell,” West groans, rolling his eyes and sighing the most dramatic sigh in the universe.
“Shhh….”
Once the crowd dies down, Veneers introduces the set and launches into the first half of the show, firing off hilarious jokes that have even West laughing.
I'll take that as a win. When the second half rolls around, the host’s assistant wheels out a massive object draped in hot pink silk and every single person shifts nervously in their seats. What am I missing?
“Now, folks,” the host, Daniel, announces, rubbing his hands together mischievously, “we're going to play a little game.” He strolls over and dramatically whips away the fabric, and underneath is a large spinning wheel lit up like a slot machine with a bold, glittering title flashing across the top that says, “Wheel You Regret This?”
Each section is packed with suggestive options in oversized lettering. Truth And Temptation, Pleasure And Punishment, Moans And Mayhem, Stroke Of Luck, and a bunch of others that make even me blush.
“Oh, this will be good,” someone behind me says, as Daniel holds his arms out wide.
“Now, this little game requires a few brave volunteers.”
No… No, it does not.
I'm all for fun and living life on the edge, but I am not the one. The crowd starts buzzing as the stage lights dim, plunging the theatre into a dramatic silence. A beat passes, and I look over at Haze, who crouches down into his seat. Good idea.
A single spotlight snaps on and it starts to slowly sweep the audience, gliding from row to row like it's hunting for prey.
“Not me, bitch,” I mutter, as it lands on a guy on the other side of the room who immediately sinks into his seat.
I gulp when he doesn't choose couples, but individuals, and one by one they start making their way to the stage.
The crowd cheers as the embarrassed chosen ones stand side by side, each wearing expressions that show their nervousness. This was not on the website.
“We need two more volunteers!” Veneers shouts, and I feel like I'm having a heart attack. I might be charismatic, but I don't do spotlights. The beam starts sweeping in our section, wobbling back and forth. It hesitates, hovering over West and me, and I think I might piss myself.
“Come on up, Lover!” the asshole announces, but I realize it's not me that he wants. HA! The beam is hovering directly over West and I breathe out a sigh of relief. West shoots me a death glare and I respond with my best puppy dog eyes, hoping they don't pick me next.
West swipes a hand down his face, then slowly rises from his seat, and the crowd roars with applause. Haze howls and barks, and I fucking guarantee he's going to pay for that later.
“Hello, handsome, or should I say… Daddy!” Daniel says flirtatiously and Haze and I snort at the same time.
If only they knew. West takes the stage and stands with the others.
His face as red as a fucking tomato. I reach into my pocket for my phone because there's no hope in hell I'm missing out on capturing this.
“Fuck, this is the best night of my life.” Haze is literally crying from laughter, swiping away tears.
“Who's gonna be our lucky last volunteer?” The beam flicks through the crowd, teasing people as it weaves through the rows, and when it disappears, I turn around to see it hovering above a section at the very back.
Thank fuck for that. I feel like I dodged a bullet.
“Come on down, Princess. Show ‘em how it's done!” I squint my eyes to see who it is, but I can't make anything out from this distance.
Turning back to the stage, I snap as many photos of West as I can, and his expression shifts from beet red to ghostly white.
I flick my gaze to the woman slowly climbing the stairs and all my thoughts evaporate.
Wow.
Jovi moves across the stage with all the grace of a damn star, every sway of her hips landing like a punch straight to my groin, and the whistles from the men in the audience have me tempted to throat punch someone.
She doesn't seem to care, though. Confidence clings to her like a second skin, almost as perfectly as that tight pink dress hugging every curve.
Fuck, she's even hotter than she was in high school. When her eyes land on West, she falters. West’s jaw tightens as he gazes down at her, but it's not anger or embarrassment I see.
It's attraction.
He's aware of every inch of her, and I'm not the only one who notices. Haze reaches for my hand, leaning in close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him.
“Will you look at that, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and amused.
“West Carrington is cutting your grass.” A crooked grin tugs at the corner of my lips, but I don't take my eyes off West and Jovi.
West might lie to himself, but he can't lie to me.
He wants her. I see it, Haze sees it, whether he admits it to himself or not.
It's written all over his face. And if I have anything to do with it, this game has only just begun.