Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
The glass window was cool against my forehead. I kept turning the air conditioning down in this place, but it must have a setting forcing it to return to “absolutely frigid” every day.
I bundled the old sweater I’d tossed on tighter around me.
It was already past midnight. We’d ended the beach date around sunset.
I’d eaten some dinner as soon as I’d gotten back and immediately crashed.
The sun and salt air had layered me with fatigue.
But with all the recent events taking up space in my mind, sleep had managed to elude me.
I’d stirred about twenty minutes ago and was now wide awake, with nothing to do but pace this small house.
I was currently contemplating going outside, but I was half-worried some alarm might go off.
I shivered as the frozen air seeped into my bones.
The cold felt wrong—artificial, invasive, like it was making me sick.
I’d tried my best to heed Emma’s advice this afternoon.
I’d kept the date today light and fun. And to the guys’ credit, none of them brought up Danny’s arrival, not even Tripp.
Well, except for Isaac, who told me how much he’d liked Danny’s documentary and asked if I knew where the ski hill was that they’d filmed.
I decided Isaac should probably refrain from reality TV dating in the future, unless he went on some show called Building a Bromance, or something.
I didn’t mind, though. At least he was being genuine.
My mind briefly wandered to the bottle of whiskey Emma had left here, currently stuffed away in a cabinet I had to step on the countertop to reach. But that wouldn’t help me sleep. If anything, alcohol made me more wired.
Instead, I continued to stare at the fence that trapped me in here, shrouded in darkness except for a dim glow reflecting off the house.
A shadow moved across the fence. My heart pounded and my eyes stayed glued to the spot, any inkling of tiredness gone.
Was that an animal? There were no alligators out here, right? Was that a stupid question? We were in Florida, after all. Couldn’t they be anywhere?
Another flurry of movement, and a figure appeared in the window off to the left. I screamed and jumped back. I scrambled, frantically searching for something, anything with which to protect myself.
There was a weird, modern manatee statue on the decorative end table next to the TV that didn’t work. I snatched it up and held it over my head.
Danny’s face emerged from the dark. He had been squinting, but his eyes went wide when he saw me standing in the living room.
“Jesus,” I hissed. I clutched my chest and slowly lowered my other arm, heaving in huge breaths to try to slow my jackhammering heart.
He tried to slide open the sliding glass door, but it was locked. He pointed to the handle. I shook my head.
“Please, Trace.” I could barely make out his muffled words.
I sighed, and tried to mouth the word, “Alarm.”
While I wasn’t positive there was an alarm or some sort of motion detection on the door, I wasn’t about to take a chance.
His brows furrowed, but then recognition flashed across his face. He tilted his head and pointed to the window across from the stairs.
Before I could contemplate how sensible it was to let my ex into my house in the middle of the night, I walked over to the window. Once unlocked, it slid up with ease. Thick, warm air flooded in.
“What do you want?” I demanded.
“One sec,” he said, placing two hands on the windowsill. There was no way; it was four feet in the air.
“You can’t fit,” I said, stepping back anyway.
“Watch me.” He grunted, and lifted himself up. He managed to fit his torso through the window, the sides scraping his shoulders as he squeezed in. He did kind of a strange flip, keeping his grip on the windowsill. His legs came through and he landed on the floor with a soft thud.
“What the heck, Danny? You scared the crap out of me.” The adrenaline at seeing him, in my space, at night, with no cameras, was out of this world.
He wore a t-shirt and black sweatpants—cozy, fleece ones that I knew for a fact I had borrowed a few times. He looked so comfy that I wanted to wrap myself in him. Those long nights spent in front of the fireplace at his cabin felt like a lifetime ago, yet they lingered, stronger than anything.
“Hi,” he said, casually, not the least bit out of breath from the gymnastics move he had pulled to get inside. He glanced around the small space. “So, this is your place, huh?”
I sighed and turned away from him, moving back by the sofa to get some space.
“What’s that?” he asked, pointing to the small statue I’d forgotten was still in my hands.
I held it up and turned it over. “A manatee, apparently.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Were you trying to use that as a weapon?”
“That’s none of your business.”
He frowned and shook his head. “We really need to get you in some self-defense classes.”
“Stop that!” I tossed the statue aside and waved my arms in the air. “There is no we. And my self-defense skills are just fine, thank you very much.”
He walked over and picked up the statue from where it lay discarded on the couch. He threw it a few inches in the air and caught it before setting it back down. “You couldn’t bludgeon a mouse with that.”
“Can I help you with something?” I asked dryly, my arms folded across my chest in a weak defense against his presence.
“Can we sit?” he asked.
“I’d rather not. Can you make this quick?
” It was more effort than I cared to admit to keep my voice calm and steady.
I could barely look at him. My toes curled, and heat surged in my stomach just from seeing him.
I couldn’t stop thinking about him striding toward me shirtless during the volleyball game today…
Was he buying my harsh demeanor? Was I buying it? Did he know how weak my resolve was when it came to him? To us?
He raked a hand through his hair, looking every bit the ragged, lovesick man he claimed to be. “I just wanted to say sorry—fuck, that’s so weak. I want to say a hell of a lot more than that.”
“It’s a start,” I said, tapping my foot on the floor.
He blew out a breath, moving around me to take a seat on the couch. Once sitting, he rested his head in his hands.
I fought an eye roll. Oh, was this difficult for him? Could he not find the words? Good. He’d damaged us beyond repair. He deserved every bit of the remorse and regret that was oozing out of him right now.
I remained standing over him as he ran his hands up and down the legs of his sweatpants. I appreciated having the upper hand of being above him, however slight and meaningless the gesture might be.
“How did you get here, anyway?” I asked.
“Climbed out a bathroom window.”
I snorted. “Seriously?”
He nodded. “I waited until the crew cleared out and everyone else was sleeping.”
I laughed, picturing Danny climbing out the tiny window and sneaking over here, only to climb through yet another window. But I quickly stifled it when I remembered I shouldn’t find anything this man did amusing.
I trained my face back into a glare. “And what was so important that you had to sneak over here?”
“To talk to you before tomorrow. I know there’s an elimination.”
My shoulders hunched as disappointment ripped through my body. That was what he wanted to discuss? The freaking show? “Relax. I doubt Brady will let me get rid of you. I have zero control over this process.”
“It’s a hell of a lot more than that,” he said, his words clipped.
“Then get to it, because I’m tired,” I lied. I’d never been more wide awake in my life.
“Shit,” he said. “I don’t even know where to start. I can’t believe I fucked this up so badly.”
“Me either.” I kept my voice purposely cold, wrapping the sweater tighter around my body even though I was practically sweating now that Danny was here.
“I need you to know.” His eyes darted to my face.
It was as if he was trying to collect his thoughts, but he had way too many.
“I never gave up. Even after the reunion, when you wanted nothing to do with me, I was planning to wait for you to be done filming so I could show up at your door,” he said.
I rolled my eyes.
His gaze narrowed. “What? Is that too sad? It’s the truth.”
“I’m just not sure I believe you.” I shook my head.
All I could remember was how cold his expression had been when he left me in that parking garage.
It was hard to reconcile that man with the one who stood before me now.
It was easy to fall into the fantasy that he’d been pining for me all along, but he’d made it crystal clear I couldn’t take his words at face value.
“After the second concert where I couldn’t get backstage to see you, I figured the reunion was my best shot.
But what I hadn’t planned for was just how tongue-tied I’d be.
You were so hurt and so mad, and the weight of my screw ups hit me like a thousand pounds.
I knew I had no right to tell you how I felt, even though all I wanted was to hold you. ”
He sighed, shaking his head at the memory.
“Then, I was planning on coming to see you, but I read an article about this show, and that you’d started filming.
I panicked. I was so pissed that I hadn’t laid my heart bare when I had the chance.
But I figured there was no way one of these guys was going to win your heart, so I’d wait until you were done.
Then Brady called about the ‘wedding.’” He threw air quotes around the word. “And now I’m here.”
A frown pulled down my face. Silence lingered in the air between us.
“What?” he asked, foot tapping the ground.
Finally, I lifted my shoulders. “That’s just not how I pictured it, I guess.”
His forehead wrinkled. “Pictured what? Me?”
I nodded. “I figured you were fine moving on.”
“I was thinking about you every second.” He ducked his head, keeping quiet on that one.
“Well, that’s a nice story,” I said. “But the reality is, you ended things.”