Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Fix your face.” Grant smacked me on the shoulder.
“What are they doing up there?” I demanded, waving my hand at Trace and Tripp, not bothering to adjust my scowl in the slightest.
Grant squinted. “Looks like a hug.”
“Who hugs on a fucking Ferris wheel?” The urge to climb the ladder on the side and break it up flowed within me. Did she actually like this guy?
“Are you seriously being all territorial right now? You got here two seconds ago,” Austin said, his tone bored. He slouched against a fence that separated us from one of those spinning rides—the ones with wobbly, egg-shaped seats designed to make you hurl.
I flashed a look at Grant, who just lifted a hand like, ‘Don’t get me involved.’
“Let’s just not talk,” I said. I couldn’t be sure what Austin had been like before I arrived—not great, according to Grant—but it was as if my presence had removed any of the tact he’d been forcing before.
Maybe he’d come to the realization he wouldn’t be getting as much screen time as he’d originally hoped.
Maybe he was pissed that Trace hadn’t fallen for his off-brand phony charm.
Whatever it was, the guy had completely checked out.
If only that meant he’d get the fuck out of here already.
“I don’t know why you’re so pissed at me,” he said, purposefully flexing his biceps against the white polo shirt he wore. “You’re the one coming in at the last hour and trying to take away everyone else’s time. Christian and Isaac didn’t deserve to go home last night. It should have been you.”
“Be for real, man. Christian and Isaac hardly spoke to Trace,” Grant said.
“So? It’s not about that. It’s about what’s fair.”
Grant scoffed. “Fair? How old are you? This whole thing is about one thing—what Trace wants. Not what you think is fair.”
My fists clenched against the railing. It was hard giving Austin my full attention when Trace was looking at Tripp like that.
“If she had any sense, she wouldn’t want him,” Austin muttered.
Alright, that was fucking it. I pushed myself away from the railing and stalked toward Austin, stopping when I was just a few feet away from him. His eyes widened in surprise, but he pushed off the fence he’d been leaning on and folded his arms across his chest.
“Are you upset that I took away your time with Trace or your camera time?” I asked, jerking my head to the side where a cameraman had followed me to capture the altercation.
Austin’s lip twisted into a snarl. “You know what I meant.”
“Do I?” I turned to Grant. “Do you know what he meant? I’ve honestly had a hard time understanding him over his loud-ass ego.”
“Maybe we should just calm down,” Grant said.
His eyebrows pulled together as he looked between the two of us.
Then he glanced to the side, presumably at Brady or one of the assistants, signaling them to intervene.
I didn’t have to look back to know that they wouldn’t.
They were more than likely foaming at the mouth, ready for any type of drama I wanted to bring.
If they wanted a show, I’d give them a show.
“Don’t talk to me like that,” Austin snapped. There was a shakiness to it, as if he were forcing his voice to remain calm but there was rage bubbling just below the surface.
My instinct about this guy was right. He had a temper. Not the harmless kind, the ugly kind he couldn’t control. I could use that.
“Why? Too fragile to handle it?” I asked, my only intention at this point to prod him and to water that seed of anger he had inside.
“I’m not fragile!” His neck had gone bright red.
“Uh, Danny, what the hell are you doing?” Grant was right behind me now, trying to tug me away from the heated discussion, but I pulled my arm free.
“I’m pretty sure you never cared about Trace,” I said to Austin. “The only thing you care about is getting your face on the screen as much as possible. That’s the reason you’re pissed that I’m here. I fucked up your plan.”
Austin was officially in my face now.
“I was her first kiss, you know,” he said. “We had a real connection.”
Red flashed before my eyes, and I took an involuntary step forward.
“Easy, tiger.” Grant put a firm hand on my shoulder, holding me back. “From what I heard, he practically forced himself on her.”
“That does not make me feel better,” I seethed. I squeezed my eyes shut as my heart hammered against my chest.
Stay cool.
When I opened them a millisecond later, Austin was still staring at me, smug as hell. That grin needed to be wiped clean off his face. I sucked in a breath through my nose, forcing myself to remain calm.
“Trace would never end up with a guy like you. She hates guys like you,” I said. “Guys so full of themselves, they can’t even recognize when a woman isn’t interested.”
“Please,” he spat. “I have no issues getting women.”
I turned to Grant, deciding to pretend like Austin didn’t exist, just to piss him off more. “What’s with this guy?”
He frowned. “If I had to guess? I think he thinks he’ll be the next lead if they continue this show into another season. You know, he’ll be the guy dating a bunch of girls.”
“Shut up,” Austin hissed, glaring at him now.
Grant rolled his eyes. “Relax. They won’t use any sound bite of us talking about production unless they wanted to screw us over. Which they wouldn’t do if they made you the next lead.”
“And how could they resist doing that, since you’re so fucking charming,” I spat out.
Austin’s rage was back in full force. “Watch it!”
Just thinking about him, taking what wasn’t his, pissed me the hell off. Trace was too nice to say no. I’d have to give her a firm lesson on how to shove someone off and kick them right in the balls.
“Trace has wanted him gone the whole time,” Grant continued. “But the producers want drama. He’ll probably get the misunderstood villain edit, or something.”
“You’re the expert,” I said.
He shrugged. “This is my fifth show. I’ve seen a lot by now.”
“Maybe they should make you the lead,” I said.
“Comic relief, that’s all I’m good for. No one wants to watch a guy like me fall in love.” He almost sounded sad about that.
I glanced back at Brady, surprised he was letting us talk this much, but his eyes were wide as saucers. Apparently, drama outweighed talking about production.
Austin was officially worked up. It was time to go in for the kill.
I covered my mic and kept my voice low. “It’s not cool to force yourself on women, you know.”
He scowled. “I would never.”
“Really? Sounds like you basically forced Trace to kiss you.”
“She wanted to kiss me.”
I gripped my fist tighter around my mic, keeping my voice even. “I highly doubt that. You’re a shriveling douche, who can’t go more than five seconds without talking about your net worth. You probably throw that figure around so much because it’s the only thing you have to offer.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Austin said, his voice raised.
I was close.
“You probably couldn’t get anyone to sleep with you willingly, right? That’s why you’re here?”
“Shut up!” Austin took a step forward and shoved me, hard. I let my chest absorb it, forcing my body to cave in more than it would have naturally.
“What the—” Grant exclaimed, jerking backward so I didn’t get pushed into him.
“Is that all you got?” I asked, egging him on.
“Fucking pathetic.” That finally did it, Austin wound up and punched me.
He got me good, right in the jaw, and my head snapped back.
Grant was already between us, shoving Austin away from me.
I kept my fists at my sides, although I ached to use them on him.
Self-restraint was important, something Austin clearly didn’t know.
“Break it up!” Brady barked.
Someone gasped from the sidelines. While the rest of us had been occupied, Trace and Tripp had apparently finished their little date. Now she stood at the edge of the chaos, face twisted in confusion.
She rushed forward but stopped when I held out a hand. I didn’t want her near someone who’d be so reckless with their anger.
A bigger guy on the crew finally stepped in and pulled Austin away from Grant and me. His eyes were still wild for more.
“Jesus,” Grant said. “Are you alright?”
I nodded. “I’m good.”
“Oh, you think he’s your friend? He kissed her, too. Ask him about that!” Austin shouted as two of the assistants held him back.
I arched an eyebrow in Grant’s direction.
He shook his head. “I don’t know what that idiot is talking about.”
“What is going on?” Brady demanded, as if he hadn’t been salivating over the heated discussion a second ago.
“He’s pissed that I’m here,” I insisted. “Been raging about me all day. He just hit me out of nowhere. Isn’t there a no-violence policy?”
“Oh, fuck you!” Austin yelled, lunging at me again.
Emma nodded in agreement from behind the cameras, while also swaying her hand back and forth. “I mean, technically, Austin definitely hit him unprovoked.”
“That’s crap. He was egging me on.” Austin threw his head back.
“Just with words,” Emma pointed out. “There aren’t any rules against that.”
“Are you okay?” Trace asked, stepping toward me now that Austin had been restrained.
My chest lit up with warmth. It was funny, her worry for my safety was what had freaked me out in the first place, but now I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen a more beautiful sight than the worry lines creasing her forehead. They were solid proof that she still cared. About me.
“I’m not sure I feel safe in this environment,” I said.
Grant barked out a laugh before stifling the sound with his fist and shaking his head.
“Bullshit!” Austin spat.
Brady dragged a hand across his face. “We have a zero-tolerance policy for violence. It’s in the contract. Austin, that’s an immediate removal from the show. You need to come with me.”
I smirked and gave Austin a little wave. He glared at me before tearing his arms away from the guy who’d held him back. He flipped me off, then spun on his heel and stalked away. A few members of the crew rushed after him.
“What the hell?” Brady looked like he had stress hives sprouting on his neck. Man, it felt good to see him all flustered after the way he’d openly manipulated me. As long as it didn’t hurt Trace, I’d happily ruin this show if I could.
“Okay, this is fine.” Brady started pacing back and forth and snapped at Emma before pointing to her tablet.
She pulled it out, ready to jot down notes.
“We can save this. We can air Austin shoving Danny, and the camera getting jostled. We’ll explain what happened through interviews. We’ll still film the rest of the date.”
“People love a dramatic exit,” Emma assured him, frantically writing on the digital screen.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” Trace asked me. “You’re bleeding.” My heart nearly fucking stopped when she took my chin in her soft hand and turned my head so she could see the cut.
Damn. Apparently Austin had a better hit than I gave him credit for. But I’d take the punch a hundred times over if each time ended with Trace touching me.
“It’s fine,” I said.
She smirked. “Did you do that on purpose?”
My eyes went wide, and I brought a hand to my chest. “What? Me? He came at me out of nowhere.”
“Right.” A smile crept onto her face.
It was a relief to know she wasn’t pissed. Maybe the little stunt I’d pulled hadn’t been the picture of maturity, but that guy needed to go. Judging from the way Trace seemed to find the whole thing amusing, it would appear she agreed.
“Okay, okay. Break it up.” Brady waved his hands in the air. “Danny, I need you to sign something. Then we keep filming.”
Trace dropped her hand. I wished I could grab it and keep her next to me.
She sighed and shot me a small smile. “The show must go on.”