Chapter Seventeen
Landon
Iended up finding this cool pool hall/game room in the back near the new rooms, and my favorite part was that there wasn’t a fucking soul in sight.
I’m not cut out for all this shit. I thought at first it would be easy enough.
Come in, charm the pants off a few beautiful women, win some challenges and retire like a king when all is said and done.
I didn’t see getting paired up with the only woman who can’t stand to be in the same room as me.
I also didn’t anticipate not really vibing with any of the guys either.
Maybe that part’s on me… I haven’t exactly made any efforts.
Foster-kid lifestyle, though. Keep to yourself, keep your head down and you make it through shit a hell of a lot easier.
When you get attached, get your hopes up, it only gives people the chance to hurt you.
Damn, I can’t imagine if people actually heard me say shit like that out loud. Cue the Sarah McLachlan music.
Coming on to this show wasn’t my idea, not by a long shot, and I’m here for one reason and one reason only.
So if I have to put up with Little Miss Stick Up Her Ass, so be it.
She seems like a tough bitch, and that I can use to my advantage when it comes to challenges.
We’ve got half the competition in the bag.
The whole making sure America “ships us” or whatever the fuck they called it… yeah, that’ll take some work.
Eventually, I decide I need to eat something and make my way into the indoor kitchen where Shane is shutting off the burners on the stove and stirring something into a big pot that fills the kitchen instantly with a savory scent that makes my stomach grumble in approval.
“What did you make?” I ask.
“Goulash.”
I lift an unimpressed eyebrow. “Goulash? What the fuck?”
He smiles. “It’s good. Basically like a beef mac. My mom used to make it on rainy days. It’s comfort food.”
“Who needs comforting?” I ask as I peek at the gooplash or whatever he called it.
“Uh, your girl,” he says, laughs stiffly like it’s obvious.
My gaze comes to his. “I don’t have a girl.”
Shane rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Your Locked In partner, yeah?”
I shrug. “Don’t waste your time on her, man. You got a better deal with the little goth babe.”
Shane makes a disgusted face. “I’m not wasting time by checking on a friend who got fucked over tough in front of everyone while it was being filmed for all of America to see.
If you pull your head out of your ass and stop being such a tool, you’ll see she’s worth a hell of a lot more time than you’re clearly gonna put into her. ”
He finishes dishing up a couple of bowls before walking outside to where Luna is sitting at a table.
I scan the back area, but I don’t see Courtney anywhere.
I don’t know what makes me dish up a few bowls of Shane’s goop stuff.
Before I know it, though, I’m walking back down the hall to the only place I know she could be.
I push open our bedroom door, and sure enough I find Courtney lying on the couch, her back turned to the room beneath a sheet as thin as tissue paper.
I clear my throat beside her, but she doesn’t turn around.
I do it again, but still nothing, so I kick out one of my feet and scoot the couch over a few feet, and she startles awake, blinking up at me blearily.
“Don’t pretend like you were sleeping. The light is on for Christ’s sake,” I say, handing her a bowl.
“What’s this?” she asks.
“Goop,” I respond, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking a bite.
Damn. Better than I thought it would be.
“You made this?” she asks with a disbelieving tone.
“Do I look like I fucking cook?”
“You look like you don’t do much but jerk off and tell yourself how awesome you are in the mirror,” she spits back.
I don’t know why but that pulls an amused snort out of me. I shake my head and take another bite.
After a moment, she copies me, humming her approval under her breath. “Is this what Shane was cooking?”
“Yup.”
“And you were just going to take credit for it? Is that supposed to make me think you’re a nice guy or something?” she scoffs.
“Never claimed either,” I say flatly.
Her narrowed eyes soften, as if she can’t dispute that, and we sit there eating our gooplash in silence.
Look at us, getting along and shit.