11. Game On
11
GAME ON
KEATON
The door to our suite clicked shut behind us, and for a second, the quietness blissfully surrounded me. No Melanie with cameras sticking mics into our faces. No more fake smiles, and no Starla lurking around corners.
Just Sophie and me. And whatever the night ahead might bring.
“We survived that. So far.” She tossed her clutch onto the desk, kicked off her heels, and surveyed the room with her hands on her hips.
“Glad it’s behind us.” I came up behind her and kissed her bare shoulder on a small freckle that appeared there. I’d eyed it all night, the sexy little spot, and I reserved that kiss just for us in private.
“No one’s watching, Keaton. You don’t have to do that,” she lowered her voice as if someone was lurking nearby, like Starla did all night, watching us with her evil eyes.
“That was me spontaneously thanking you for showing up tonight.”
“You flew me all the way across the country. Figured I might as well join you in the fun. That was our deal, wasn’t it?” She swiveled to face me, chuckling.
“No, I meant being there for me. You made sure Hops shined tonight.” I held her gaze as long as she’d let me, hearing her breath hitch.
“So mission accomplished so far in leveraging all the opportunities here?” Her beautiful blues gleamed.
“In terms of Hops, yes.” But for me and the hard cock I tried to control in my pants, we hadn’t even begun to leverage anything.
I added a touch to her arms, testing the waters. The simple brush of my knuckles brought a wave of goosebumps across her skin. I liked this effect I was having on her.
“You dazzled people tonight, Soph. Definitely dazzled me.” My voice dipped husky and low.
“Are you saying I’m in the wrong profession? I could have gone into acting like you?” She teased, and I knew it, but I took it to mean she was performing this weekend, that was all.
What a wake up call, and a reminder that all I might get out of this would be a few good laughs. I asked her to pose as my date, nothing real. What did I expect?
It wouldn’t stop me from pushing the boundaries though. After all, I’d be in this room for the next two nights with her, bathing in her flowery scent, captivated by her every move. I wanted to press my mouth to hers again and chase this heat until it burned out. But I knew if I started something tonight, I wouldn’t be able to stop.
“I was right about Starla.” I stepped away and sat on the couch. I sighed and took off my shoes. “She will not make it easy on us, with the way she was glaring at me all night.”
“I felt like her number one enemy, like she held back for recon, plotting her next move. What the hell will tomorrow bring with her?” She crossed the room to her suitcase, the skirt of her black dress sashaying with her sweet hips, her every move tracked by my eyes.
“Don’t you worry. If she gives us any crap, I’ll put her in her place.”
“Well, it’s been a long day. We should probably rest. The schedule looks pretty grueling tomorrow. I like to shower at night. You?”
“Morning. Looks like we complement each other nicely that way.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll brush my teeth and hair first?” She disappeared with a handful of her things into the bathroom. The click of the lock warned me not to follow.
I smirked at the bed, wishing now we had that cot. All night lying next to her, I’d be painfully hard. That’s a given. A glance at the small couch didn’t make the entire situation any better. It would squish me, even curled up.
“Pillow wall it is.” I grabbed everything I could find, all the extra pillows and blankets around the room and closet, and built a rather fine barrier, in my opinion.
After she exited the bathroom, she sided up to the bed and grinned. “You actually built us a pillow wall?”
“Obviously. Wasn’t that the terms of our agreement?”
“I’m impressed.” She climbed in, then pulled her hair up into a scrunchie, bringing her creamy neck on full display.A neck begging to be explored by my lips.
“You’re still wearing your dress from this evening?” I flopped onto my side of the bed, arms behind my head.
She sat cross-legged on her side and awkwardly peered down at herself. “I brought nothing remotely close to pajamas.”
“Personally, I’ve always thought they were overrated.”
She snorted. “Me, too.” We stared at each other for a long beat while my brain stuttered over the possibility she could sleep in the nude every night. “But we should probably wear something. Do you have a t-shirt I could borrow?”
“If you insist.” I laughed and got up. I rummaged through my suitcase. About the only thing suitable I found was my beloved Denver Aspens hockey t-shirt, my favorite team. I tossed it over. “What self-respecting pretend boyfriend wouldn’t let his pretend girlfriend wear his shirt?”
“Thanks.” She giggled and pulled the shirt over her head, then wiggled and squirmed until she pulled her dress out from under the shirt. My mouth went dry.
“Neat party trick,” I quipped through gritted teeth, trying to maintain control. I’d like to see her do that again, but I wouldn’t push my luck tonight. I left her there and practically ran to the shower to take care of my twitching cock.
When we finally settled under the covers, the pillow wall between us from the neck down, I turned onto my side, propping my head on my hand. “You want to know why I really hate Starla?”
She set down her phone and shifted to her side, facing me as well.
“Behind the scenes,” I said, voice low, “she was ruthless. I signed an NDA, so I’m not supposed to share specifics of what went down behind the cameras, but I think it was obvious to the fans how she manipulated everything. Stirred up drama between couples. Fed lies to Melanie to get people kicked off. She and Vanessa were thick as thieves. Cassandra too, a little.”
“Believe me, I was Camp Keaton all the way. I hated Starla cost you the win. By the time America had to vote on either you two or Vanessa and Ben, I think everyone was tired of Starla, but felt bad for you.”
I glanced up at the ceiling. “I thought maybe I could find love on that show. Stupid, right?”
“Not stupid,” she whispered.
“Starla made sure I didn’t win. Made sure no one did but Vanessa and Ben. She was there to play a game with no actual intentions for anything else.”
Silence stretched between us, heavy with old wounds. It brought down my mood.
“I noticed,” Sophie said after a beat, “how Cassandra was looking at you tonight.”
“Case in point.”
“What do you mean?”
“Before Anthony locked her down, she used to text me. A lot.”
Her nose scrunched in distaste. It was adorable.
“She actually texted me recently, wanting to catch up this weekend and implying there could be something more between us. Anthony was conveniently forgotten while trying to appeal to me,” I added.
“Charming,” Sophie said, voice tight.
“I’m not interested,” I confirmed. “I see right through her, still playing games. Starla too.”
“Then... what do you want?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
I looked at her across our pillows, the soft light on the nightstand catching the curve of her cheek.
“I’m thinking about it,” I said. “When I figure it out, I’ll let you know.” But I probably knew. She resided not more than two feet away from me in my oversized T-shirt.
The morning came too early, but the scent of strong coffee delivered by room service helped wake me up.
Sophie groaned as I set a steaming cup on her nightstand, made just the way she liked it. Two stevia packets, a splash of cream, and milk froth on top.
“You’re an angel,” she mumbled, blinking up at me like I’d just offered her the moon, her blue eyes bright already at this hour. “Why’d you keep me up so late last night watching that movie?”
Neither of us could sleep, so we did the next best thing, streamed a funny movie, talked about music, and shared our favorites. If it were an actual date, I’d call it a winner.
“No one forced you.” I grinned and scratched my beard. It needed a trim and oils to keep it soft. I was half-tempted to shave it all off in this dry desert heat.
She sat up, hair tangled like a halo around her head. She smiled—soft, sleepy, unguarded—and I had to look away before I jumped on top of her.
“I’m hitting the gym,” I growled. “You good for breakfast in an hour?”
“Perfect. I’ll be ready.”
“Big day ahead. Production has the poolside game scheduled this morning for the reunion. You’re taking part, by the way.”
“Bring it on.” She sipped her coffee, eyes closing as if in bliss.
“Then we have those media interviews you set up.”
“And don’t forget the cast party tonight.”
I nodded and confirmed. “Should be a wild day.”
“I can handle it.”
“Why do you think I asked you to be my date? I knew you could.” I checked her out, all morning messy and confident, and wondered how the hell I was going to get through this weekend without losing my mind.
The pool deck swarmed with people by the time we arrived. The reunion fully underway, my cast mates wore bright and skimpy swimsuits and showed as much tanned skin as possible. Everywhere I turned, people were flirting way too hard with each other like a meat market on steroids.
I adjusted my sunglasses to block it all out while remaining cool. Hard to believe I once loved this shit. But having grown up a lot since the show first aired, Holly Creek called to me. My quiet hometown life suited me, where right now I could work in my brewery, inching my way to my life goals, instead of here.
Only Sophie wasn’t in Holly Creek, but by my side. We reached an empty lounger, waved over by Anthony, and set our things down.
Then—holy fuck—Sophie removed her cover up, revealing a sexy turquoise bikini. Her curves, legs, and sly smile wrecked me, and as I tore my eyes away, I realized many other men stared as well.
“Careful, Kingston,” she said, hip-bumping me. “You’re drooling.”
“I’m keeping it together,” I lied.
“Glad you both made it. Sophie, you’re looking hot today. Ouch,” Anthony finished on a slap of his arm by Cassandra. “What? You know you do, too, babe.”
“That is such a pretty suit, Cassandra.” Sophie laid it on thick.
I barely warned Anthony with my eyes to keep his off of my date, when a couple of unattached guys from the show came slinking over, dripping cockiness introducing themselves to her.
Sophie handled it with grace, but I wasn’t about to let it ride.
I grabbed her waist, spun her into me, and kissed her.
Hard.
She gasped against my mouth, but then her hands were in my hair, pulling me closer. Her body molded to mine like we were born for this.
No doubt, the kiss screamed loud and clear for anyone within earshot that Sophie’s mine.
At least for this weekend.
When we finally broke apart, her eyelashes fluttered up at me, breathless.
“Wow,” she whispered. “We’re really selling it.”
“Gotta make it believable,” I said, voice low.
She licked her lips, and I held back a groan. I quickly sat on the lounger with a towel over my lap as soon as she left my embrace. Until she sat beside me, holding out the bottle of sunscreen, and my heart jumped into my throat.
This unplanned slathering of lotion over every inch of her became the highlight of my day. I opened my legs, and she sat between them, her back to me, and I gave the best performance of my life. As if I played the role of a Swedish massage specialist, big and beefy, I dug deep to get her knots out.
Sophie moaned just as Melanie hopped on a megaphone and announced the game plan. She had split the entire cast into four teams for a tournament-style game of pool volleyball.
Sophie’s eyes lit up. “Yes. That’s my sport,” she informed. “I was captain of the championship girls’ volleyball team in high school.”
“Damn. Have I told you how lucky I am to have brought you as my date this weekend? Bring it on, baby.” My chest puffed proudly as we prepared. In the pool, we maneuvered until she was on my shoulders. Her thighs gripped my neck with every move. I’d never been so grateful for the water hiding exactly how turned on I was.
I carried her around, taunting the other team, with Sophie like my queen. Let the games begin.
We battled it out, team against team, until in the end we faced Starla’s team head-on. Her smug glare dared me to slip and fall.
I held up my hand to Sophie for a high five and a little pep talk before the first serve. “You good? We got this, baby.”
“I’m ready to spike the ball in her face,” came her eager reply. I laughed at her competitive side. We were a team and determined not to lose.
Of course, I should know by now not to count Starla out. She and her partner—a dude who got kicked off the show in the second episode and who probably did not know the true extent of her exploits—proved scrappy and tenacious.
We matched point for point, until the end, needing one more to win, the ball soared toward us. Sophie surged up, spiked it hard, and sent it crashing into the water behind Starla.
The pool turned into a chaotic mess of bodies—splashing, shouting, and cheering.
I grabbed Sophie by the waist, brought her down, and spun her in my arms. Never more happy to see Starla flipping us off and splashing water our way.
With water sluicing down our bodies, I kissed Sophie like we’d already won more than just the game.
Her arms wrapped around my neck, her body arching into mine like she couldn’t help it. My cock twitched against her stomach and I moaned into her mouth.
“Are we still putting on a good show for everyone?” she parted and whispered, catching her breath.
I kissed her again before answering, and nipped at her lower lip. Too damn good.
If this was all fake, then why did it feel like the realest damn thing I’d ever had?