Name Your Price

Chapter 9

Olivia woke the next morning again confused about where she was. Less so because she was on a strange couch in a strange living room and more so because of the music blaring like she’d fallen asleep backstage at a show.

She sat up, and half her blanket nest fell to the floor. A slight ache pulsed in her temples thanks to the wine. She hadn’t pulled the curtains the night before because she felt no need behind a privacy gate; there was no one to see inside. And they were on camera anyway, so the thought of hiding was moot. A hazy beam of light cut through the leafy trees outside the front window and spilled into the room. By the weak color of it, she knew the sun was hardly up.

What she didn’t know was why the bass line of a heavy rock song was keeping time with the pulse of her headache and playing loudly enough to rattle the screws in their new furniture loose.

“Chuck?” she called to absolutely no avail. He could have been sitting right next to her and unable to hear in the racket.

Having a sneaking suspicion that she knew what was going on, she threw back the blankets and headed for the north wing of the house with her phone in her hand.

“Chuck!” she shouted. The music got louder as she headed into the hall. She swore the art on the walls was seconds from slipping off its hooks and hitting the floor. She wondered what kind of insurance Name Your Price had and what would happen if they broke something.

As she approached the door to the house’s gym, she figured out what was going on. At six thirty a.m. on a Friday—she’d checked the time on her phone clutched in her hand—she knew right where he’d be. It was Arm Day. Or Leg Day. Or whatever Body Part Day required a grueling sunrise workout. The only thing he got up early for was a workout, and she knew she’d find him in the gym.

She nearly kicked down the door when she got there, but instead of screaming at him to USE YOUR HEADPHONES , she froze and was instantly stripped of all higher intelligence.

He was shirtless with his back to her and mid pull-up on the squat rack. It was one of those pull-ups with a wide grip that put enough muscles in his arms and back on display to count. (Eighteen. There were eighteen.) Just as slowly and deliberately as he’d pulled himself up, he lowered himself back down and then did it again. His ankles were crossed, and his feet in sneakers bent up behind him. His shorts clung to his hips, and other than that, he was just miles of skin. Sweaty, tanned skin rippled with muscles bulging and sliding against each other in a way that made her do an about-face and throw herself against the wall outside the room before he even noticed she was there.

Knowing what had to be done, she frantically thumbed her phone while her heart pounded. She’d begun to sweat and had to douse the flames before they burst into something uncontrollable.

Yellow bikini!!!!! she desperately texted Mansi.

Mansi’s return text came almost immediately, and Olivia imagined her friend pausing her own early-morning workout to come to her aid.

Why? What’s he doing?

Mansi! You said no questions asked! YELLOW BIKINI.

Sorry! Stand by.

Olivia chewed her lip and fought for deep breaths as she waited. The music pounded on from the other side of the wall. She wondered if Chuck had even realized she’d opened the door.

Her phone vibrated in her clutched hands. She looked down to see a photo of a corgi puppy in a wagon with pumpkins.

All her speeding blood rerouted to her heart, and an aww escaped her mouth.

A second photo came in of a golden retriever puppy in a field of daisies.

Better? Mansi texted.

Olivia made an involuntary pouty face at the adorable dogs and quietly cooed.

Yes. Thank you. But now I want a puppy.

She got a kiss emoji in return as a sign-off.

Her phone nearly slipped out of her hands when Chuck appeared in the doorway and startled her so much that she yelped in surprise. She hadn’t heard him coming thanks to the music leaking out of the room at nightclub decibels.

“Liv? Are you out here?”

“ Jeez , Chuck! You scared me!” she shouted over the noise.

He absolutely towered over her where she stood barefoot in her pajamas. His size would have been intimidating, especially given all the freshly pumped muscles, if the sight didn’t make her want to climb him like a tree.

She took a deliberate and large step back.

“Sorry!” he called as his eyes went on a quick but conspicuous tour of her body. They lingered on her chest for a hot second before snapping up to her eyes.

At the sight of him, it was like their fight last night hadn’t even happened. The urge to fling herself at him pulsed in her blood, despite the yellow bikini texts, and the air between them strained with a familiar angst that would soothe the immediate ache but only lead to more trouble.

Her tongue was thick and heavy and her heart was still beating hard, but she managed to wrangle both enough to form coherent speech. “Music is a little loud, don’t you think?” she shouted with a hand on her hip.

Chuck seemed to notice the noise rattling the walls only then. “Huh. Yeah, sorry. I thought closing the door would help. I guess the sound system is really high quality here.”

Olivia blankly stared at him, wondering at how oblivious he could be sometimes.

He flashed her a smile and made a show of stretching his arms in a way that flexed his bare chest right in her face. The sight of the toned grooves she’d once loved sliding her hands and lips over made something snap into place so sharply, she almost gasped.

It was payback.

He knew perfectly well that the music would wake her up and she’d come storming in to tell him to turn it down only to find him right in the middle of her favorite exercise to ogle.

He’d played her like a fiddle.

The stunt was retaliation for making him sleep outside, probably also for their fight last night, and not only did he wake her up early, but he also left her needing to dial yellow bikini for help.

Damn you, Charles Walsh.

She narrowed her eyes, and instead of letting him know she was on to him, she said, “I’m going for a morning swim,” and padded off toward the bedroom.

She felt his gaze on her backside and smiled to herself, thinking two could certainly play this game.

···

For good measure because she had in fact packed it, she changed into the notorious yellow bikini. Once dressed, she made sure to slowly and completely needlessly walk back by the gym on her way to the pool. She could have left through the back bedroom door, but what would be the fun in that? Chuck had turned the music down to a reasonable enough volume that she could hear what sounded like a weight being accidentally dropped, perhaps slipping out of a distracted hand, when she passed the door. Her smile widened.

She had second thoughts when she stepped outside into the brisk morning air, but she wasn’t going to let a little chill ruin her retaliation plan. The sun had nearly reached the peak of the house and would soon spill over and warm the backyard, and much to her pleasant surprise, the pool was heated.

The clear, clean water welcomed her, and she found herself enjoying swimming a few laps. The pool was designed for floating and splashing, not exercise, but its rectangular form allowed her to get in several strokes before she flip-turned into another glide across its long center. Her heart rate was noticeably elevated when she came up for air to find Parker and Benny the cameraman standing on the pool deck.

“Morning!” Parker called with a wave. He held a to-go coffee cup in the other hand.

Olivia swam to the edge of the pool and gripped the wall. “Is the front door even locked?” she deadpanned in greeting.

Parker chuckled. “Yes, but we have keys. I’m here to see how things are going and to remind you that— Oh, good morning, Chuck.” He cut off when Chuck emerged from the back door, still shirtless, still sweaty.

“Hey,” Chuck greeted him, and swept his hand through his damp hair.

Even from down below in the water, Olivia could appreciate the intricate network of veins and muscles, the artwork, really, that he’d just further chiseled his body into.

She wasn’t the only one suddenly unable to stop staring.

“Um, yes. Right,” Parker said, seeming to have lost his train of thought.

Olivia took the cue to swim over to the ladder and hoist herself up out of the pool. Instead of reaching for the towel she’d draped over a lounge chair, she stayed soaking wet and walked over to join Chuck, Parker, and Benny, who’d lifted his camera. Her hair dripped down her back and her feet left little puddles with each step. She casually rested her hands on her hips and tried not to smile when she noticed Chuck bite his bottom lip. A small, strangled sound came from his throat.

“What were you saying, Parker?” Olivia innocently asked. “You wanted to remind us of something?” She made a point to squeeze out her hair and shake it so that it slapped against her back. Of course this made her chest bounce in a way that summoned another strangled sound from Chuck. Something close to a pained groan this time that almost made her smile.

Parker looked back and forth between them and grinned. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I like it. You getting this, Benny?”

“Yep,” the cameraman said.

A flush burned Olivia’s cheeks at the thought of being on film dripping in her swimsuit, but it was nothing compared to the heat she felt from Chuck’s gaze. Whatever game they’d been playing, she’d won. She knew it by the look on his face like he wanted to take her bikini off with his teeth.

She smugly grinned and kept her attention on Parker to spare them all from having to edit out explicit footage. “What’s the reminder you have for us?” she asked him.

“Ah, right. TJ and the crew will be back this afternoon for another sit-down interview.”

Olivia winced at the mention of another interview given how their last one had gone. She hoped TJ would behave himself.

“Is he not going to be an ass this time?” Chuck voiced her exact thought.

Parker made an exasperated snorting sound and half shrugged. “I rein him in as much as I can, but TJ will be TJ, unfortunately.”

Olivia did not like his defeatist response, but she did like how Chuck, perhaps subconsciously, had taken a step toward her and angled his body like he was ready to step in as a shield. The memory of how he’d come to her defense when TJ crossed a line last time put a soft bubble of warmth in her chest.

“I’m happy to remind him where the line is,” Chuck said with a cold grin that felt like a threat, especially given the way he was standing with his hands on his hips.

“That won’t be necessary,” Parker quickly said. He took a sharp breath and clapped his hands as if to reset the scene. “How about we keep this going for a little while this morning, hmm? The two of you could hang out by the pool for a little longer. I mean, Olivia needs to dry off, perhaps on a lounge chair, and Chuck, well, maybe you’d like to take a swim after what I can only assume was an intense workout.” He grinned at them with the subtext of Please stay half naked for the cameras .

“Sure,” Olivia said.

“That’s fine,” Chuck echoed.

“ Excellent! ” Parker cheered. “Benny!” He looped his finger in the air despite them already rolling. “I’ll be back later for the interview. Have a good morning!” He left, guzzling his coffee and answering his phone, which had started ringing.

Olivia and Chuck stared at each other for a beat, Olivia still dripping, Chuck still sweating. The air seemed to thicken between them.

A wry smile tugged at one corner of Chuck’s mouth. It popped out the secret dimple that he reserved only for Olivia. The rest of the world got the million-dollar dazzler, but she got the boyish grin. He shook his head with a quiet laugh. “You had to pack that swimsuit, didn’t you.”

She mirrored his smile but with her full mouth, silently saying she knew exactly what he meant and exactly what she’d done. She turned on her bare foot and sent the strings tied at her hips swinging. The sun had come up over the house now and poured itself into an inviting golden pool directly atop the lounge chair where she’d left her towel and phone. Parker’s suggestion for her to dry off outside seemed like a great idea. Especially with Chuck gazing after her as if she were a tempting morsel.

Chuck sat on the other lounge chair to take off his shoes. Olivia wrung her hair out with the towel, then laid it along the chair. When she grabbed her phone before she sat, she saw she had four new text messages from Mansi.

I know you guys don’t have internet, so you probably haven’t seen this. I thought you should know. Let me know if you want me to do anything about it. Xo.

Olivia’s heart took a swan dive to her toes as if it had leapt off the diving board in front of her. The other three messages were screenshots of an online tabloid web page.

Sources have confirmed that a recent viral video of a couple’s breakup is serving as inspiration for a segment on the popular reality show Name Your Price . Even better, the couple in question includes actor Chuck Walsh, whose recent firing from Safe Gamble has left him without many allies in Hollywood. The other member of the duo is Olivia Martin, daughter of the late actress Rebecca Martin and Hollywood manager Bradley Harris, a couple whose torrid affair during the latter’s marriage to Astrid Larsson launched one of the biggest scandals of the early ’90s. To this day, beloved film star Astrid Larsson has famously never spoken publicly about the scandal, nor have the Martin or Harris families. While Olivia Martin has spent nearly her whole life out of the spotlight, the once-dubbed “love child that ruined Astrid Larsson’s marriage” was recently seen out to dinner in L.A. with a friend and will now be appearing on a TV show. Like mother, like daughter? Perhaps the Martin women have a taste for Hollywood men with bad reputations. Either way, we will be tuning in for the drama when the show airs.

Olivia had trouble swallowing the thick lump in her throat as she read. Her struggle to function was made all the worse by her suddenly speeding heart. She swiped through the rest of the messages and saw the photos included with the piece: one of her from that night outside the restaurant with Mansi looking like a deer about to get mowed down by a semitruck—it was exactly as unflattering as she expected. Another of her and Chuck, a still from the sidewalk breakup scene, him with his arms out in a shrug, chest bare, and her pointing at him with a face angry enough to spit fire.

The third—one she’d seen before but that still managed to punch her in the gut with the force of a battering ram—the one the tabloids had favored when the scandal broke: her parents leaving a hotel together with infant Olivia bundled in her mother’s arms. Her father, dark haired and handsome in a suit, had his arm out shielding her and her mother from the camera that caught the million-dollar image, while Rebecca held Olivia to her chest, her tiny head in her hand, and stared into the lens with a look of true fright. The bright flash had popped off their stunned faces and drowned everything else to inky black night behind them, as if they were insects trying to scurry from a flashlight. The harsh lighting only helped to serve the villain narrative. Caught. Guilty. Secret Love Child Exposed. The tabloids had had their pick of headlines to splash across the image back in the day. Her mother, served a disproportionate amount of the ridicule, had been called every derogatory term for a woman ever invented. Her father was demonized as an archetype of slimy Hollywood men given that he was fifteen years older and, in fact, Rebecca’s manager. And she, a baby, was crowned the love child that ruined Astrid Larsson’s marriage. At least now, none of the ugly words accompanied the infamous photo.

And, as always, to round out the plot lest anyone forget who the true victim was no matter how tangential the current story, the fourth photo attached to the article was one of Astrid Larsson. A red-carpet image with her looking like an elegantly aging goddess whose hands had remained clean in the whole matter.

Olivia had seen the latter photos before, but she did not expect to see them in a text from her friend while sitting poolside first thing in the morning. Nor did she expect to be pulled so wholly into the spotlight. The threat of being part of a scandal like her parents’ filled her veins with an anxious urge to flee.

“Liv? What’s wrong?” Chuck asked. She hadn’t noticed that he’d turned to face her. They sat with their knees together between the lounge chairs.

She looked up at the sincere concern on his face and found herself struggling to speak. When a plump tear rolled down her cheek, she only then noticed she was crying. She wiped it away, and Chuck looked like he was ready to go to war with whatever had put it there.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice low and serious.

Olivia sniffled, not sure what to say, and held out her phone. “There’s something about us online. Mansi sent me a few screenshots.”

He took it, and she watched his eyes scan the tiny print. His brow furrowed in focus, and where she might have expected him to hurl the phone across the yard, he let out a resigned sigh. “That’s really awful. I’m sorry. But you have to ignore things people say about you online; it’s the only way to survive in this industry.”

She flinched, not expecting a lecture. “But I’m not in this industry.” Her voice came out soft and reedy.

Chuck cocked his head and then glanced at Benny. “Liv. Yes, you are.”

An argument automatically formed on her tongue, but she swallowed it down, realizing he was right. She was actively filming a TV show, and even if her grandmother had shielded her from the spotlight, by heritage, Hollywood had a claim on her. And, obviously, people were still interested in poking their noses into her private life.

She looked up at Chuck with a vulnerable plea in her eyes. “So, what do I do?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. I stopped caring what people said about me online when everyone started calling me an asshole and spreading rumors. You’ll drive yourself crazy if you let it in.”

The defeat in his voice, the resignation, made her ache for him. It also sparked a tiny sense of admiration. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to shake it off so easily, and he hardly looked fazed. She wondered if now was her chance to take advantage of his valor and ask what had gotten him fired.

“Are you ever going to tell me why those rumors started?”

He glanced at the camera and shook his head. “Not today,” he said quietly.

She was used to his deflection on the subject, but she had never considered it might have been more than a pride thing. The way he’d looked at the camera made her wonder if the truth was something he didn’t want to say, or something he didn’t want to say on record. An odd feeling settled in her chest as he let out a big sigh.

“Why is Mansi sending you pictures of puppies?” he asked. She’d forgotten he was still holding her phone and saw him thumbing the screen.

“Hey!” she blurted, and snatched it out of his hand. “Why are you scrolling through my phone?”

“You said it was a few screenshots! I was making sure I read it all.”

She scowled at him, knowing it was a flat lie. “No, you weren’t. You were snooping.”

He gave her his million-dollar grin that could get him out of jail anywhere. “But really, are you thinking of getting a dog?”

She hadn’t been, but the pictures Mansi sent were admittedly enticing. “Maybe.”

“You should. You’d make an excellent dog parent. You’d make an excellent human parent too.” He sweetly smiled at her in a way that said he’d like to coparent either of those scenarios someday. Then he pushed up off the chair and bounded for the pool in two giant steps before launching himself into it. The resulting splash arced higher than the roof and spritzed Olivia with drops.

She stared at him when he surfaced and flipped his soaked mop of hair out of his face. How he could go from making her want to scream to making her ovaries burst in the same hour was truly a unique talent.

···

Despite what Chuck said about letting online gossip go, she couldn’t. Throughout the rest of the morning, she found herself revisiting the screenshots. Of course, she couldn’t click any of the links in the photos, and an internet search would end in no-signal failure anyway. Her only option was rereading the short article over and over until it left her feeling raw and exhausted.

The line about sharing her mother’s taste for Hollywood men with bad reputations sank a particularly deep barb. Her father was, by all public accounts, not a good guy, a fact that Olivia had had to accept since public accounts were all she had to go off of. Chuck’s reputation had plummeted thanks to getting fired, but she knew him—perhaps better than any other man she’d known—and she knew he wasn’t bad . Sure, he had a way of finding her very last nerve and stomping it into oblivion, but that wasn’t worthy of an industry-wide reputation. She hated to think he could join ranks with her father in the public eye.

When it came time for the interview that afternoon, Chuck found her sitting at the kitchen island staring at her phone. The house had become a hub of commotion and preparation as the crew set up for filming in the backyard. Tyler had dropped off a deli tray and a giant bowl of fruit salad. Olivia managed three cubes of cheese and a grape between her despair over the article and her pending nerves about another interview.

“Unless you’re looking at more puppy pictures, you should put that down,” Chuck said.

She glanced up to see him looking dapper in another dreamy button-down. He nodded at her phone clutched in her grip.

“Oh, I’m…looking at puppy pictures. Right,” she said, and pressed it to her chest as a guilty flush filled her face.

He gave her an easy, crooked smile that popped out his dimple and simply said, “Liar.”

How he managed to look so good while accusing her of dishonesty, she didn’t know. She felt his eyes on her makeup and the green dress the stylists had picked out for her, and she swore she saw the ghost of a battle pass beneath the carefree look on his face. He swallowed and appeared like he might reach out to touch her but waved his arm in the air instead.

“I told you to let it go. I’ll take your phone away if you need me to,” he said.

She half smiled. “That won’t be necessary. Cutting off my only access to the outside world might make me go full Jack Torrance on you.”

“Better play it safe, then.”

“Probably in everyone’s best interest.”

“Well, this banter is a little friendlier than the last time I saw you,” TJ interrupted. He swanned into the kitchen and plucked a grape out of the fruit salad bowl.

“Yes, well, you don’t have us handcuffed together trying to build furniture this time,” Chuck said.

“I can always bring the cuffs back out to keep things interesting,” TJ said with a wink. “Come on. They’re ready for us out back.”

Olivia slid off the barstool and straightened her skirt. She’d put on strappy heels for no real reason other than that they went with her dress. They wouldn’t even be visible on camera. Either way, they made her a few inches taller and pinched her toes in a way that meant she’d only be wearing them to walk to the backyard and sit down before she took them off again.

When they entered the backyard, she saw that it had again been set up as a little studio with the patio chairs clustered around the table. An umbrella had been pulled over for shade, and the crew milled around in a jungle of tripods, monitors, cameras, and cords.

“What exactly are we talking about today?” Olivia asked as she sat in one of the chairs. She wasn’t sure if they’d watched the footage from last night and at least wanted to be prepared if they were going to make them talk about their fight on camera.

“You will find out shortly,” TJ said. Olivia lost sight of him while the mic tech stepped in front of her. The ever-present mischief in his voice had her on edge. She shook it off with a forced smile and once more silently repeated her refrain.

A million dollars a million dollars a million dollars.

“So! Let’s get started,” Parker boomed. Dan the director had returned and was positioning himself behind the camera. The afternoon had warmed into a sun-kissed L.A. day. Olivia was thankful for the umbrella providing shade and hoped her makeup didn’t start to run.

“Same drill as last time, folks,” Dan said. “TJ, take it away.”

They were styled, mic’d, positioned, lit, and ready to roll. Olivia took a deep breath in the final second before Dan whispered action .

TJ turned on his megawatt game show host smile. “Olivia, Chuck, welcome back to another sit-down. You’ve been in the house now for two and a half days, and I have to say, after that explosive scene on the sidewalk that began all of this, it’s longer than any of us thought you would last.” He chuckled, and honestly, Olivia had to agree with him. “Since we’ve all seen where you ended up—that spectacular showdown and split—today we want to talk about where you started. What were your first impressions of each other? Olivia, let’s start with you. What did you think the first time you met Chuck?” He turned his grin on her at the same time the camera pivoted to point at her like a laser.

Olivia took a deliberately slow inhale for one, because she was relieved they weren’t diving into last night’s argument, and two, thinking about meeting Chuck always winded her. She needed to brace herself because whether she wanted to admit it or not, that day changed her life. No matter that they were broken up, her days would always be divided between before and after Chuck Walsh.

“We met at a Westside coffee shop for the interview,” she said, and felt the memory come back to her in vivid color. “We sat outside on the sidewalk, and I honestly wondered if he’d chosen the place to be seen.”

There hadn’t been any photos taken of them that day, but the image of him in a tight tee shirt and sunglasses with tousled hair lived permanently imprinted in her memory.

“He was very reserved at first. I thought he was going to keep his sunglasses on the whole time, but he took them off as soon as I sat down.” She glanced sideways at him and felt his gaze pierce her now the same as it had that day.

“I’d done some research on him, but all I really knew was that he’d just landed his big-break role in Safe Gamble , that he was known for keeping distance in interviews, and that he was single.”

“A status that changed that day, right?” TJ cut in, bursting the warm memory like a pin into a balloon.

“Um…yeah. I guess you could say that,” she said with a flush.

Chuck had asked her out during that interview, but that memory, that rose-tinted exchange that still filled her chest with helium, felt too personal to share on TV.

She let herself privately sink into it.

They’d talked about where he grew up, moving to L.A., his early days in the industry. How his first manager suggested he go by Chuck and not Charlie as he always had, and it stuck. He told her about his big new role that would start filming in a few months. When she’d worked her way to asking him about his relationship status toward the end of their conversation because everyone was pining for that juicy tidbit, she’d expected one of the vague, dismissive answers he’d given in other interviews: I’m focusing on my career. The timing isn’t right. But instead, he’d looked straight at her and said, “I haven’t met the right person yet.”

He’d been open and candid with her through the whole interview. Funny. Charming. As if she’d pried loose a lid that no one else had been able to budge. But even then, the sudden conviction threaded through his words, the vulnerability, stilled her breath. Her next question tangled on her tongue because she’d somehow known even after talking to him for only an hour how he was going to answer.

“How will you know when you’ve met the right person?” she’d asked.

“Because I’ll have the feeling I’m having right now, talking to you.”

They’d stared at each other, lost to the rest of the world and safe in their own little bubble, until Chuck had eventually smoothed a hand over his jaw.

“I’m sorry,” he’d said. “That was wildly unprofessional of me. I’m not trying to hit on you. I’m just…being honest.” The sincere, bashful flush that filled his face had made Olivia’s heart flutter.

“That’s okay,” she’d said.

Hopeful light had flickered in his gaze. “Well, I guess if I’m this far in, I might as well go all the way. Do you want to go out sometime?”

Embarrassed laughter had pealed out of her, but it hadn’t put him off.

He’d given her his movie star grin. “I’m so sorry. I’m ruining this completely. You’re trying to do your job, and I’m being an asshole.”

“You’re not being an asshole. It’s just—”

“You already have a boyfriend.”

“I don’t!” The words had leapt out of her and made her blush. “I mean, I’m not seeing anyone right now.” He’d gazed at her in anticipation, hanging on what she’d say next. She’d carefully considered her words to make sure she was thinking her decision through. “I would very much like to go out with you too. But that is complicated.”

He’d leaned closer over the table, excitement flashing in his eyes and his tee shirt straining against his biceps. “Then let’s uncomplicate it. What do I have to do?”

She’d laughed again and wished that closing her notebook was all it would take for her to be able to reach out and touch him. To squeeze one of his corded forearms that he was so eagerly leaning forward on.

“How about this?” he’d said, and motioned for her to hand over her notebook.

When she did, he’d started scribbling his phone number on a blank page. “You think about it and call me if you want to. If I never hear from you again other than when this piece publishes, I’ll live out my days finding a way to make peace with knowing I let The One get away.”

She’d snorted a laugh, and he’d looked up at her with a crooked grin that popped out a dimple she didn’t know he had until that moment.

She’d known she was going to call him before he even finished writing his number.

Now she shook herself to resurface from the memory and remembered they were in fact filming something that would be on TV, and she needed to answer TJ’s question.

“I guess you could say my first impression of Chuck was surprising.”

“How so?” TJ asked.

“Well, before we met that day, I’d only seen his most recent movie. I watched it to prepare for the assignment.” From the corner of her eye, she didn’t miss Chuck’s slight wince at the fact that she hadn’t opted to watch it on her own. “Surprisingly, I liked it.”

Chuck straightened himself with a smug tilt of his chin. “You liked that one, huh?”

Her instinct was to roll her eyes at his self-indulgent question, but she couldn’t deny a fact.

“I did, yes. And I liked the one that came after it.”

He’d had supporting roles in both films. She really had enjoyed them both, the second one perhaps slightly more because they’d been dating by the time of the premiere, and she got to attend a Hollywood party for a reason other than reporting on it.

“So you fell for his thespian skill,” TJ said, reclaiming control. “What else?”

Olivia tried to stave off the heat curling into her face at the thought of Chuck’s dynamic allure. The movies were just a 2D teaser. Seeing him in living color was an assault on all her senses. But she felt like that went without saying, and babbling about his good looks would reduce her to the ranks of an airhead reality TV contestant she’d decidedly determined she was above. So she reached for something deeper and just as honest.

“Well, when I finally met him in person, I thought he was charming, of course. Obviously ambitious. Self-assured. But what I found surprising was how remarkably vulnerable he was at the same time.”

Chuck turned to her with a curious tilt of his head.

“Interesting,” TJ said. “Tell us more.”

Olivia all but tuned him out and turned to face Chuck. She found herself confessing a truth she hadn’t really considered until that moment. “I think that’s what I was most attracted to, honestly. His self-confidence is magnetic, but it’s the tenderness beneath that really drew me in. I guess I was intrigued by why he felt he had to hide it in public.”

A glimpse of the exact vulnerability she was referring to flashed across Chuck’s face, the same as it had that day at the coffee shop. She knew she was one of the lucky few who ever got to see it. It sank a hook straight into her heart.

She cleared her throat and smoothed her palms over her thighs, turning back to TJ. “I was attracted to all that. And his arms. He was wearing this ridiculously tight tee shirt like he knew my weakness. What can I say.”

TJ guffawed a loud laugh as Chuck stroked a bashful hand through his hair, showing off one of the arms in question.

“The heart knows what it wants, I guess,” TJ said.

Olivia blushed and quietly laughed. “Or something.”

“All right, Chuck. You’re in the hot seat now. What was your first impression of Olivia?”

Chuck rounded his lips and blew out a big breath. He widened his eyes as if the encounter had been overwhelming.

Olivia gasped like she was scandalized. “What does that mean?”

He shot her a devastating grin that involved only half of his mouth but somehow squeezed her entire heart. “It means you stole the air right out of my lungs the first time I saw you.”

She froze and wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to move again.

Chuck’s face softened into a wistful, hazy look. He spoke to her like no one else existed in the whole world. “You showed up to the coffee shop with your notebook and a pen like you’d come to study me. You were wearing that dress, the yellow one with the kind of ruffled skirt. You had your hair partway back, and you smelled like flowers when you walked by. I remember thinking, holy shit, I’ll tell this woman anything she wants to know about me. I’m an open book; take it all. Your questions were so pointed and smart. I could tell you really cared about learning about me and writing a good piece. It took me two seconds to realize you’re a very driven and passionate person.”

Olivia gazed at the man sitting beside her and felt her heart swell like it had done the day they’d met. He hadn’t said anything so perceptive and generous—so damn sweet —in a long time. She was at a loss for how to respond.

Chuck softly laughed. “I did question your judgment when you agreed to go on a date with me later that night, though.”

Her face heated. “Yes, you asked me before we even finished the interview.”

“And you only took about an hour to think about it before you said yes.”

“It was at least two.”

“If you say so.”

They were smiling at each other when TJ’s voice cut in. “So there were sparks from the start, as we’ve established. What do you think of each other now? I mean, obviously something went awry, right?”

His line of questions felt dangerously close to the ones that had led to their explosion during the last interview when he’d asked why they’d broken up. Not to mention, the same question had instigated last night’s fight too. Olivia shifted in her chair and heard Chuck clear his throat.

“I still think she’s driven. I still think she’s passionate,” Chuck said. “And I don’t think anything necessarily went awry. We just got to know each other and realized some of our traits don’t exactly align…peacefully.”

An involuntary snort snuck out of Olivia’s nose. She threw a hand to her mouth.

“Have something you want to share, Olivia?” TJ asked.

“That’s just a polite way of saying it.”

“How would you say it?” TJ said.

She considered and decided not to pander to TJ’s quest for drama despite being able to list off a catalog of all the ways she’d describe their incompatibility. “The same, I guess.”

A sly smile spread across TJ’s face. “Well, maybe living together has taught the two of you some manners. A week ago, I can only imagine what choice words you would have used—some of which we all heard in that video from the street.” He kicked a foot up onto his knee and pivoted.

“Speaking of lessons, what have you learned about each other living here these past few days? Any habits you can’t stand?”

“That’s a bit of a leading question, isn’t it?” Chuck said flatly. “It hasn’t been all bad.”

“You tell me, Chuck. You were the one who spent the night locked outside that first night. How would you say things are going?” TJ turned a knowing, smug grin on him.

The embarrassed heat wave that consumed Olivia was not subtle. She felt everyone’s eyes move to her, and she knew they’d all watched the footage from that night—from everything, surely. Confirmation of it made her want to hide.

Chuck folded his arms. “Well, sure. The first night was a little rough.”

“Mm-hmm,” TJ said. “Olivia? What are your thoughts about that night?”

She imagined her flushed face being turned into an internet meme. Or worse, the shot of her threatening to light his shirt on fire that night—even though she would never have actually done it—becoming a GIF.

Why had she signed up to be on TV?

A million dollars a million dollars a million dollars , she thought once more.

“I think things might have gotten a little carried away,” she said quietly. “I’m still sorry.”

Chuck shrugged. “I’m over it.”

“So!” TJ said, loudly refocusing attention when they didn’t elaborate. “Back to my question. What have you learned about each other these past few days? Olivia? You go first.”

She let out a breath and mentally sifted through everything that had happened. It had only been two and a half days, and she’d seen a new side of Chuck. Of course, she’d seen the side she knew well—the stubborn, brash, homing-missile-for-her-last-nerve side—and they’d gotten in a fight last night, which was par for the course. But she’d also seen the tender side of him that he kept hidden and only showed during his most vulnerable moments. Like when he’d tried to soothe her nerves over being on camera; when he’d intervened during the first interview; when he told her she’d make a good parent. And everything he’d said moments before about his first impression of her. And, however ill-fated it had been, he’d tried to have a real conversation with her last night about their problems.

She honestly wasn’t sure she ever would have seen any of those things if they hadn’t ended up locked in a house together.

Smoothing her hands over her lap, she turned back to TJ, to the camera, and said, “I’ve learned that he can surprise me still.”

TJ gave her a look of sincere intrigue. “Interesting.” But he didn’t elaborate. He turned to Chuck. “And you? What have you learned?”

Chuck didn’t look at TJ or the camera. He looked right at Olivia, again like she was the only person on the planet. “I’ve learned that she’s capable of things I didn’t know.”

The statement was ambiguous, but the look on Chuck’s face made her think it was more of a compliment than a dig.

“Well, that certainly is enticing, isn’t it?” TJ said with another grin. Olivia wondered if his lips were capable of relaxing over his teeth or if they stayed peeled open even when he slept. “Surely that will keep things interesting until we meet again, assuming you can make it that far.” He turned to Dan in a signal that the segment was over, and the backyard took a collective exhale.

Parker swooped in with his own eager grin. “That was great, you guys! The sentimentality will play nicely on screen.”

Chuck had already stood up and began disentangling his microphone from his shirt. “Great. Excuse me.” He seemed to be in a hurry to leave.

“What’s his deal?” Parker asked when Chuck dumped his mic pack on the table and walked off.

“I don’t know,” Olivia said with a curious shrug.

Parker mirrored her shrug and then turned to her. “Olivia, I actually wanted to talk to you for a minute, if you don’t mind.” He held out an arm to direct her a few steps away.

“What is it?” she asked as she kept an eye on both Chuck retreating into the bedroom door and TJ doing a poor job of pretending not to eavesdrop on her and Parker’s conversation.

Parker took off the sunglasses he’d been wearing the whole time and gave her a serious look. “I watched the playback from this morning, and I saw when you found out about the article online.”

She hadn’t expected this turn, nor had she been prepared for the topic to come back up so suddenly. A thick lump formed in her throat. She fought to swallow it down, fearing where he was headed. “Okay. And?”

“ And I first wanted to say I’m sorry you found it upsetting. I can only imagine what it would be like to have your parents, rest their souls, talked about in the tabloids. And second, I’m wondering”—he paused and took a step closer before he lowered his voice—“I’m wondering if you’d reconsider doing a small segment on it for the show.”

Olivia reeled back and gaped at him. “Are you serious? Parker, you just said in the same breath how upsetting it was, and now you’re asking me to do an interview about it?”

“I know!” he blurted, and held up his hands. Her voice had risen, and a few heads turned to see why. “I only ask because the word is out now that you are on this show, and things will only continue to snowball. Everyone is interested in this story—they have been for decades! With you locked in here and inaccessible to the outside world for the next month, we can get a leg up on owning it.”

She folded her arms and glared at him. “Did you hope that this would happen? Was this part of your plan all along, to use me just to get to a story about them?”

“Of course not, but I can’t ignore an opportunity, Olivia.”

Her anger only continued to multiply. “This is not an opportunity , Parker. Even if I weren’t locked in here, I wouldn’t talk to anyone about my parents. I never have before, and I am not going to start now.” She turned on her heel and marched away fuming. She made it three steps before she turned back, unable to let the unjustness of it all go. The anger that had boiled up inside her threatened to push tears out her eyes. “If you’re so interested in a story about them, why don’t you go talk to people who actually knew them instead of preying on their daughter who never met them?”

The remorse she expected to see on Parker’s face was not there. Instead, he looked inspired. Determined. “Because that’s the story, Olivia! That’s what people will want to know! How has this impacted you, their daughter, having grown up in the shadow of scandal and tragedy?”

She reeled again. “ In the shadow of — Do you even hear yourself, Parker? My life’s tragedy is not entertainment!” she shouted with her arms out, and all the turning heads from the crew present to literally film her life for entertainment made her feel like she’d lost her mind. She blinked and pivoted back toward the house. Before any of them could further invade her personal life, she slid open the back bedroom door and slammed it shut behind her.

Chuck was inside looking like he might have been in the middle of his own struggle. He stood between the bed and the closet staring at the ceiling while he unbuttoned his shirt like he was meditating or talking to a higher power.

The slice of his bare chest exposed by his undressing snared Olivia’s eyes for a second before she sat on the bed’s foot to remove her shoes, which had taken to feeling like bladed boa constrictors on her feet.

“What’s wrong with you?” Chuck asked.

“Nothing,” she spat, and lifted her right foot. She struggled with the buckle, which was disguised in part of the strap that wound up her ankle. Only a misogynist could have designed such torture devices and called them fashion.

“If you’re going to lie, at least try to make it convincing.”

When she finally got her shoe unbuckled, she hurled it at the closet. She missed and it hit the wall with a thud and fell to the floor.

Chuck quietly walked over and picked it up. He examined it as if it were an object from space before he bunched the straps dangling like noodles and carefully wound them around the sole. “I’m not going to press because I don’t want to become the victim of flying footwear, but you can tell me if you want to.”

She unbuckled her other shoe with much more ease and calmly dropped it to the floor. She took a deep breath and looked up at him. “They want me to talk about my parents. Parker just pulled me aside and asked if I’d do a segment because he thinks since the news is out that I’m on this show, interest is going to snowball, and they want to get ahead of any story since they have me captive in here for an interview. It’s all because of that damn article.” Her voice wobbled, and he instantly stepped toward her, as if the sound of her distress pulled a string he was tied to the other end of.

He stopped just short of the bed like he’d hit an invisible wall. He bent down and picked up her other shoe, gently repeating his process of winding the straps, and set the pair beside her.

“Thanks,” she said, doing her best not to sound weepy.

He sat on the bed next to her with the shoes between them as a small but meaningful barrier. And then he said something she didn’t expect at all. “I mean, he’s kind of right about it being an opportunity.”

She turned to him in surprise. “What?”

He shrugged. “If I’m honest, I’ve never really understood why you’re so reluctant when it’s right there for the taking.”

Olivia felt like her brain had melted and was oozing out her ears. She’d told him about her parents, of course she had. But other than a cursory overview that he could have googled on his own, they steered clear of the topic. They rarely even toed the line, and now he’d walked right up and kicked it. “Are you serious right now, Chuck?”

“Yes. You’re like the first nepo baby in history who doesn’t want the title.”

She blinked at him, completely gobsmacked by what he was saying. “ No one wants that title! It’s insulting and reductive, and I honestly can’t believe you just said that.”

“Well, it’s true. You have this industry at your fingertips, and you take it for granted—and I don’t only mean the film industry. I know you don’t want to be on camera. But you could use their story— your story too—to launch the career you actually want as an author.”

She jolted up from the bed and clenched her fists, nearly shaking. “Why on earth would I want to welcome that attention?”

“The attention doesn’t have to be negative. With the right team, you could spin it so that you’re positioned in the best light.”

She blinked at him in shock. “Chuck, my life story— my parents’ deaths —is not something to be spun by Hollywood smoke and mirrors for consumption. Where is this even coming from? Why are you saying all this to me?”

He stood too and held out his arms. “I don’t know, Liv. Maybe I’ve always wanted to say this, and now I can because for once, you can’t run away, and you have to listen.”

She sputtered and felt like she might explode. “Anything else you want to get off your chest while you’re at it?”

“Yeah, actually. I think you’re scared. You pretend you want nothing to do with this world, but deep down, you crave validation. Confirmation that you matter and will leave a mark. That you are bigger than your parents’ legacy. But you’re afraid to do anything about it, so you act like you’re above all this and that none of it is important to you.”

In true Olivia and Chuck fashion, they’d gone from zero to sixty in five seconds flat. The vein in his forehead throbbed, and she felt its mirror keeping time in her neck.

She sucked in a hard breath. “Okay, if we’re trading honesty here, how about a few things I’ve always wanted to say to you ?”

“Sure, I’d love to hear them.” He scooped his arms toward himself in a welcoming motion and then folded them over his chest.

“I think you care about this world too much. To the point that you lose sight of everything else because you’re so obsessed with your career. You missed my grandma’s birthday party to go to an audition, for example. And you live in an apartment that you can’t afford for appearance’s sake. Also, I think what you’re saying about my parents is unfair. You have no idea what it’s like for me because your parents think the sun shines out your ass! I think—”

“Do you know how much fucking pressure it is to have my parents think I’m perfect?” he shouted, and threw out his arms.

Olivia flinched, not realizing that particular button would be the hottest one.

Chuck took a breath and put his hands on his hips. “They don’t even know I got fired—they don’t even know we broke up! I couldn’t bear the thought of telling them either thing because I didn’t want to disappoint them.” He sank to the bed and held his face in his hands.

This normally would have been the point where Olivia ran away. She’d spin on her heel and slam a door, leaving the unfinished emotional dregs trailing in her wake. The urge thrummed in her limbs, pumped in her pounding heart. But the sight of his distress, the memory of his accusation last night about her always running—and the fact that she had nowhere to go—made her stay.

She sat beside him on the bed and spoke softly. “How do they not know either of those things? They were both literally in the news.”

Chuck popped up out of his hands, looking truly surprised to see her still there. It took him a moment to speak. “They don’t keep up with celebrity news; I told them not to. And I’ve never told them that we fight at all. They were so happy that I was in a serious relationship when we got together. I wanted them to think things were perfect. With them focusing on my dad’s health, I didn’t tell them when I got fired or we broke up because I didn’t want to add to their stress on top of it all. I asked Chelsea not to say anything either.” The pain threaded through his words made her chest ache. She almost reached out to touch him but remembered the rules.

“You’re a good son, Chuck.”

He huffed a strangled sound. “I try to be.”

“No, you are. And I can’t imagine Sam and Barb Walsh ever being disappointed in you. Like I said: sun out your ass.”

A quiet chuckle bubbled from his mouth. “I can’t tell if you’re deflecting again or making an honest effort.”

“Somewhere in the middle?”

He turned to her with a soft, warm look on his face. “I’ll take it.”

Her heart leapt with that familiar bungee-jump hiccup that only he could incite. It felt dangerously close to a feeling she was no longer supposed to have because they’d broken up.

She pushed up from the bed, ready to flee, but he reached out for her. His hand brushed her wrist without really touching her, but it was enough to make her turn around.

“Wait, before you go. Sorry I called you a nepo baby.”

Olivia snorted. “Yeah, well, you’re not wrong.”

“I know, but it came out all wrong. What I meant was, sometimes it’s hard to see your dismissive attitude toward the industry I’m killing myself to make it in. Call it a weird kind of envy, I don’t know. Regardless, it’s not fair of me to expect you to leverage your parents’ story if you don’t want to. I know I can’t fully understand what it’s like for you.”

Olivia absorbed his words and blinked wide at him. “ That’s what you meant?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not at all what you said.”

“I know. I’m bad at fighting. No one ever taught me how. Also, you never stick around long enough to let me figure out the right thing to say, so this is new for me too.”

His confession softened her into staying even longer. “The one disservice Sam and Barb ever did for you, huh? Who knew never arguing in front of their kids would lead to this.”

Chuck softly smiled and shook his head. “Still deflecting, I see. But you’re right. They never fought, so I never learned how. And I can see I’ve got about thirty more seconds of your tolerance for this conversation before you run, so I want to say something else.”

She lifted her brows in question, trying not to let on that he was right about her being ready to head for the door. All the disclosure had her itchy with discomfort.

“I’m sorry for how dismissive I was about the tabloid article earlier. I should have realized how that would impact you given your family history and been more sensitive.”

“Oh,” she said, surprised to learn he was still thinking about their interaction from that morning. “Thank you.”

“Of course. And what I said out there in the interview about you being capable of things, I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” he said. “Well, you did make me sleep outside, and I didn’t think you’d actually do it, but I more meant capable of things that scare you. Like being here. Doing this show. I know you didn’t want to, but it’s for someone you love, which is really admirable.”

With the way he was giving her his only-girl-in-the-world eyes again and with the tender vulnerability she’d spoken of during the interview as plain as day on his face, it took her a heart-thudding moment to realize the person she loved whom he was talking about was Grandma Ruby.

“Right. Yeah. Thank you,” she said awkwardly, thinking that her comment about him still surprising her was as true as ever.

“That’s why I think that if you ever wanted to tell your parents’ story—not saying you have to—I think you’d be able to do it. And I think you’d be good at it.”

His faith in her gave her a non-negligible ounce of courage. She gave him a weak smile. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”

The air that had softened between them reshaped into something with a slight edge. Chuck stood up with another sigh.

“What were you doing in here?” she asked him. “When I walked in, you looked like you were doing self-affirmations with the ceiling.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “It was nothing.”

“If you’re going to lie, at least try to make it convincing.”

He smiled down at her, and she thought they were going to continue with the intimate and uncomfortable self-disclosure, but he dodged the subject and continued unbuttoning his shirt instead. “I’m going to hit the gym again.” He turned for the closet, and she was thankful he didn’t strip down in front of her.

Left standing in the middle of the room, Olivia had two thoughts. One, hitting the gym sounded like a good idea because she could definitely use a run to burn off some steam. And two, Chuck had lied to her about being all right because he only did double workouts when he was training for a part or when something was bothering him.

···

As Olivia pounded her feet on the treadmill’s belt, she wondered what could be eating at Chuck. Perhaps it was simply the aftermath of all their arguing and the scene in the bedroom earlier; she was spent from it too. From her position on the treadmill, she could see him in the mirrored wall going hard enough on the rower to snap the cable. Sweat poured off him, and he’d probably put in enough meters to be halfway to Hawaii already. She was at least thankful he’d opted for cardio and wasn’t putting on another show in the squat rack.

She further wondered about his mood when he easily agreed on having chicken Caesar salad for dinner without a fight. He even cleaned up the dishes again.

By the time they’d wound down for bed, his odd behavior was distracting her enough that she forgot they needed to decide who was sleeping where.

She ran into him in the hallway outside the bedroom on her way back from brushing her teeth in the kitchen. He’d already put on a cozy shirt and his glasses. He was barefoot and loose shorts clung to his hips. The distorted light coming from the pool cast rolling shadows through the back wall of windows and turned them both a dark shade of blue.

“Oh,” Olivia said when they crossed paths. “I was just coming to ask where we’re sleeping tonight.”

He eyed her pajamas and the toothbrush in her hand. He didn’t say anything, and Olivia wasn’t sure what it meant.

She tried to break the odd tension. “If I sleep on the couch, you aren’t going to wake me up in the morning with another stunt like you pulled today, are you?”

His lips twitched into a small smile. “What stunt?”

A full smile spread across her face. “Oh, you were so transparent, Chuck. Don’t even pretend. Blasting music to wake me up and conveniently doing pull-ups right when I walk in? Please.”

He looked like he might deny it for a second before he grinned. “Like you said: I know your weakness. And well-played with the swimsuit, by the way. I wasn’t expecting such a swift and precise counterstrike.”

She was glad to see him out of whatever sullen mood he’d been in. “I know your weakness too.”

“Well, maybe we should agree to stop trying to sabotage each other and instead coexist for a few more weeks, because all things considered, I think we’re doing pretty well.”

“I agree.”

“Shake on it?” He thrust out his hand, and she slipped hers into it.

“Deal.”

Before the word was out of her mouth, and before she could remember they weren’t supposed to touch each other, he yanked her forward. Their bodies slammed together like waves meeting in a storm and knocked all the wind out of her lungs. His hand caught the back of her head, cupping it like it was made for that sole purpose, and he pulled her mouth toward his. Olivia didn’t even hesitate before closing the gap.

The kiss was so sudden, so shocking, and so fucking perfect that she couldn’t do anything other than kiss him back.

It was a terrible idea.

It was an amazing idea.

It was…happening.

She opened her mouth and felt his tongue, hot and urgent against hers. He tasted like home, and she didn’t realize until that moment that she’d missed him like a piece of her own body. A low moan escaped his throat, and he wrapped his other arm around her back. She pressed into him and felt her heart thudding hard enough to bruise the both of them. He began to lift her off the floor, crushing her body to his. The move brought on a floaty feeling due in equal parts to her toes skimming the tile and him greedily pulling her as close as possible. It was everything she wanted, and everything she knew she couldn’t have. Something tight and coiled unwound in her chest, loosening freely, at the same time it seized in warning.

She put a hand on his chest and pushed him back.

He immediately broke away, setting her down, and dissolved into a flurry of apologizing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—I’m sorry. I just…Fuck.” He spat the last word, made eye contact just long enough for her to see torment in his eyes, and pivoted for the bedroom. His footsteps echoed down the hall until the door shut with a firm snap.

Olivia was too stunned to process what had just happened. She saw her reflection, flushed and dazed, in the back windows. She felt like she’d been lit on fire. Her heart was still pounding when the bedroom door flew back open. Chuck came marching out, red-faced and still flustered.

“You know what? No. It’s better this way,” he said, and gripped her shoulders.

She thought (hoped?) he’d come back to finish what he’d started. Like Parker had said: if they were going to lose money by breaking rules, they’d better make it worth it. Her heart vaulted up into her throat when he directed her toward the bedroom with his hot hands on her skin. But as soon as she crossed the threshold, he let her go with a slight shove.

“You stay in here; I’ll sleep on the couch.” He reached around to the inside doorknob and twisted the little bar to lock it. Then he gave her another split second of anguished eye contact, before he said, “Good night,” and shut the door, closing her in.

She had whiplash, certainly. She wasn’t even sure she was breathing where she stood frozen with the hot imprint of his hands still on her arms, his lips on her mouth. Part of her brain—the majority of it, honestly—wanted to wrench the door open and charge out into the living room, where she would demand an explanation but, in all likelihood, tackle him and go back to kissing him before he could give one. And then they’d put that damned flat-box couch to the test and see if it could withstand what she was sure would be a furious and desperate reunion.

But the sliver of her brain not drowning in a hedonistic hormone soup commanded her to keep the door locked and her hands to herself. Chuck had had the sense to separate them before things got carried away, and opening the door would only be throwing a lit match on an already sparking tinderbox.

She took a very deep breath and sat on the foot of the bed. She pulled out her phone to stage an intervention on herself by texting Mansi.

Chuck just kissed me.

Mansi, bless her, immediately responded.

Is this a yellow bikini text, or…?

No. It’s an I’m confused text.

What happened?

I don’t know. One moment we were standing in the hall talking, and the next, he kissed me. Then he locked me in the bedroom and went to sleep on the couch.

He locked you in the bedroom?

Yes.

Isn’t the lock on the inside?

Yes.

Liv, you horny sweet summer child. He didn’t lock you in. He locked himself out.

The revelation hit her like a smack to the forehead. Mansi was right: Chuck wasn’t trying to stop her from doing anything; he was stopping himself with a physical barrier between them.

Oh , she texted her friend.

Yeah. That’s like oddly kind of romantic?

Olivia thought about it and realized Mansi was right again. Locking the door was a bizarre and slightly chivalrous show of restraint. As if he knew he needed help to keep his hands off her—and to keep them from losing any more money than she was sure they’d already just lost.

But that indicated a much larger problem, money aside. The locked door meant he badly wanted to touch her, if not more. Based on the hunger in his kiss she could still feel lingering on her lips, she knew exactly what he wanted.

And did she want it too?

She chewed her lip and dug her toes into the plush carpet. It didn’t take her long to realize what she needed to do.

Shit, Manse. Yellow bikini.

Mansi responded with a photo of a trio of penguin chicks huddled together on the ice like fuzzy gray bowling pins.

Olivia weakly smiled at it and flopped back on the bed, knowing it was going to be a long night.