Chapter 17 #3
“It’s…it’s probably going to be more upbeat.
Maybe even pop country.” I hated that genre name.
One my label had pitched to me a dozen times.
We’d sat down for a few meetings once they found out about this show.
According to my mother, they were eager to get another piece of me.
They’d gone from being hesitant to move forward with me at all, to presenting me with a new contract for my next two albums. I’d hesitated in signing.
I’d told my mom it was because I thought there might be a chance for more money after buzz from the show built up. That wasn’t true, though.
I knew these next couple of years could be huge with the contract they were offering me now.
Bigger shows. Music videos. Singles. But I was stalling.
I kept hoping someone would swoop in and rescue me from this path I didn’t want to go down.
I knew the person who had to save me was myself, but I didn’t know if I had the courage.
“Well, you are a great pop star.” His eyes scanned my face, as if sensing my sudden shift in mood. “Have you watched any of the shows I’ve been on?” he asked, a change of subject I greatly appreciated.
“I did, actually,” I admitted.
He let out a low gasp and held a hand to his chest in mock surprise. “Trace Davis. Keeping tabs on me, are we?”
I smiled and shook my head. Grant was good. His relentless flirting probably made it look like there could be something between us.
Before I could register what was going on, Grant grabbed my microphone necklace and slipped it off my neck before pulling his own off, tossing them both behind us in one swift move.
“What are you—”
He grabbed me around the waist and leaned into the pool. “Grant!” I screeched as we both toppled over into the water.
The cold water jolted all my senses. I hadn’t even realized how numb I’d been feeling until the shock of the water hit me.
When I came up, sucking in a huge mouthful of air, Grant still had me around the waist, grinning.
“What are you—”
“Quick, tell me how you’re really feeling before Brady yells at us for being unmic’ed. We probably have two minutes.”
I let out a breathless laugh. “You’re insane.”
He shrugged. “You looked like you could use a good vent.”
I sighed and lowered my voice, jerking my head around to make sure no one could really hear me.
Brady was tapping his foot, clearly irritated, but he hadn’t said anything, likely not to ruin the shot of Grant and me in the pool.
The other guys were crowded around the grill now, pretending to ignore Grant and me and definitely out of earshot.
“I’m so stressed out,” I broke. “This whole thing is way more of a circus than I thought it would be.”
He frowned. “Yeah, I kind of figured. They’ve been trying to stir up a lot of drama with the guys, and it seems like the focus will mostly be on that. At least they aren’t trying to make you look bad.”
“I guess. But they don’t care if I find love, either.” The words came out more bitter than I’d intended. I realized, to my horror, that I had still been holding on to a little hope for that. I could say I was cynical all day long, but I still wanted to find my person.
Grant shook his head. “They care too much about a good show to go for the wholesome route. Watch out for Austin. He’s a manipulative prick.”
“Don’t worry, I figured that one out for myself.”
“Isaac and Christian are alright. Kind of dense. Thick headed, but harmless.”
I snorted and elbowed him in the ribs. “Grant,” I hissed.
“Jeremy might pull your teeth out and keep them in a jar above his bed.”
“Grant,” I hissed louder, now suppressing a laugh.
“Tripp is a cool guy, though. Seems genuine.”
I bit my lip. “He’s sweet.”
He smirked like he knew just as well as I did that Tripp was the only viable option here.
“Everything else going okay?” he asked.
“Emma says I need to kiss another guy,” I whisper-groaned. “I’ve been avoiding it, but it’s not making for good TV.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Not liking the candidates?”
“It just feels so forced with everyone. I kind of like Tripp, but I already kissed him.”
Grant shot a sideways glance toward the cameras that were still trained on us. Brady hadn’t interfered yet, but he was tapping his foot even more impatiently. His glare said it all. Do something interesting soon.
When I looked back at Grant, he was staring at my lips. “What are you doing?” My heart shot into my throat. He wasn’t really thinking about doing this, was he…
But before I could question his intentions, Grant slipped his hand behind my neck.
I thought about resisting, but I let him pull me in.
His mouth was cold, wet. My nose scrunched automatically as soon as our lips made contact, but I tried to soften my features.
There was about as much chemistry there as kissing a limp noodle, but I forced myself to stay there, letting his mouth move against mine. I counted to five before I broke away.
Grant smiled and squeezed his eyes shut before moving his mouth to my ear and saying, “You couldn’t look less into that if you tried.”
I forced a smile I hoped would work for the cameras.
“Shit, do you think I messed it up?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I think they’ll be able to use the footage.”
“Thank God.”
“Should we try again?” He winked at me.
“Absolutely not.”
“Don’t sound too excited.”
I laughed and splashed him. “You’re right. I guess I should be thanking you.”
Grant smiled. “I figure you can keep me around for a bit, then ultimately decide we’re better off as friends.”
“Perfect.”
He got out of the water first, his forearms flexing to support his weight. Then he turned to give me a hand.
“So, do any of these guys stand a chance?” he asked, handing me a towel he plucked off a nearby lounger.
I wrapped myself in it, glancing to the floor before meeting his shockingly earnest eyes. “It’s hard to get over him,” I whispered.
Realization flashed in Grant’s eyes. He instantly knew what I meant.
He sighed and shook his head. “Maybe you’re not supposed to.”