Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
“And the last guy who will be staying is…” Trace trailed off, letting an unnaturally long and stressful pause hang in the air.
She looked incredible in a jean skirt, a white lace tank, and the well-worn, tan cowboy boots she loved so much.
It was the most herself I’d seen her look since I’d arrived, which just made me want to scoop her up and steal her away from this place even more desperately than usual.
Christian and Isaac stood to my left. Grant, Tripp, and Austin were seated on the couch, as Trace had already invited them to stay. Austin’s smug grin pissed me off to no end; I could only hope he was getting a shitty edit.
Trace glanced at Brady, who lingered behind a camera operator. He gave her a thumbs up and she returned her focus to us.
“Danny,” she said.
Hearing my name fall from her perfect lips was like an instant release. I turned to Christian and Isaac.
“Nice meeting you, man,” Isaac said. He clasped my hand and shook it. “Hit me up if you ever want to go skiing.”
“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said, having no intention of following through on that.
Christian said goodbye, too, then they said their farewells to the rest of the guys and moved on to give Trace a hug.
“Alright, move to the side yard for interviews!” Brady instructed after a few minutes. “Trace and the remaining guys hang back. We’ll come film you doing a little toast or something and then grab interviews.”
He shuffled out with Christian and Isaac, a few cameramen and crew tagging along. Only one PA remained.
Trace clasped her hands in front of her stomach. It twisted my gut seeing how uncomfortable she was.
“Well, it’s an honor to still be here,” Grant said, standing and easily throwing an arm around Trace’s shoulder.
I hated that. Not even because I was jealous—it was Grant, for Christ’s sake.
The reason I hated it was because of how comfortable he looked doing it, and how semi-content she seemed to take the reassuring gesture.
Would the two of us ever get back there?
The urge to reach out to her suffocated me.
Austin and Tripp got up to linger around them.
Tripp smiled, then his gaze flickered first to her and then to me, as if he was trying to analyze whether he still had a shot or not.
I wished I could tell him he had no chance in hell, even though that wasn’t fair.
Hell, if I had to choose a guy for her, it probably would be someone like him.
He seemed quiet, calm, like he might enjoy a Saturday going to an outdoor market and reading a book.
He was the kind of guy I’d pick for Trace if I wasn’t so hellbent on getting her myself.
“It’s hard to believe there’s only four of us left,” he said, giving Trace a hug. Unlike with Grant, this time I did feel the tiniest inclination to rip him away from her.
“Should be three,” muttered Austin. When he went in to wrap an arm around Trace, she barely let him make contact before stepping away.
I smiled to myself. Good girl.
As awkward as I felt, I positioned myself next to her, stealing the spot from Grant, who went willingly.
“Thanks for keeping me. Even if it wasn’t entirely your choice,” I said, brushing her hand with my fingertips. She didn’t pull away at the simple touch. I wanted nothing more than to take her into my arms and never let her go, but I was scared to push her too much.
She sighed but offered me a small smile. “It might not be smart, but I’m…not upset you’re here.”
Those simple words practically had me soaring.
I’d fucking take it. I grinned down at her like an idiot, and my chest swelled a little when I saw her cheeks grow pink.
Nothing was harder than the comfortable ease you had with someone shifting back into that awkward new territory.
But maybe I was gaining more ground than I’d originally thought.
When I glanced away from Trace, Tripp had his eyes trained on our hands, hanging right next to each other but no longer touching. He met my gaze and gave me a small nod, a gesture I could only hope was one of surrender.
The young female producer—Emma, I think—came in, trailed by two cameramen. She usually spent most of her time huddled in a corner with Trace, barely giving any of the guys the time of day.
“Alright guys, let’s get everyone into position,” she said, and handed us each a glass of something clear and bubbly.
“My, don’t you look ravishing tonight,” Grant said, taking the drink from her.
She glanced down at her plain black t-shirt and shorts before shooting him an unamused look.
“Trace,” Emma continued, ignoring Grant’s wink. “Say a few words, and then we’ll get you toasting each other and call it a night for group shots.” She stepped back and the cameramen oriented themselves on different sides of the room.
Trace cleared her throat and lifted her glass.
“I want you to know how much I appreciate all y’all being here.
I know it isn’t easy, taking time from your real lives just to get to know me.
And, I guess, thanks for taking a chance and coming here even when things are uncertain.
" She looked at me when she said that. "Cheers to you all. Let’s enjoy these last few days.”
“Fucking cheers,” said Grant, and we all lifted a glass to clink.
“Perfect. We got it,” Emma said. “Thank God we aren’t on network TV with your foul mouths,” she muttered, shooting Grant a glare.
“What? Me?” He grinned and pointed to his chest.
“You’re definitely the worst,” Emma said.
“That’s up for debate.” Grant laughed and looked at me for confirmation.
I ignored him. I wasn’t trying to be in the center of any petty drama. Trace was all that mattered.
Emma placed a hand on Tripp’s shoulder. “Thank you for being perfect, as usual. You’re the only good one in this bunch.” She glared at the rest of us.
My hand instinctively raised to my chest and my eyebrows shot up as if to say, ‘Even me?’
She laughed. “Especially you.”
As I watched her size me up, I wondered for the first time how much Trace had shared with her about the two of us.
“Trace, let's get you set up over here for a quick interview. Then I’ll come grab the rest of you.”
“That’s it? We’re done filming?” I frowned. We’d only had one drink together out by the pool, and then elimination, which had barely lasted an hour. The sun had only just set.
“Why? Are you eager to keep going?” Emma asked, smirking.
I shook my head, and she laughed. “Don’t worry, lover boy. We’ve got a long offsite date planned for tomorrow.”
“What is it?” Grant asked, rubbing his hands together with forced enthusiasm.
Emma barely acknowledged him. “You’ll find out tomorrow, bright and early. Hope you aren’t afraid of heights.”