Chapter 23
twenty-three
WREN
It’s three minutes to seven in the morning when I drag myself into The Last Kiss production offices.
Most of the crew aren’t around yet, but as I scurry down the hall toward the meeting room, I pass by the wardrobe office.
The light is on. I slow down, spotting Jennifer as she organizes some cosmetics on the counter closest to the door.
She looks up and smiles warmly. “Hey, what are you doing here so early?”
I know I’m going to be late but fuck it. I haven’t seen Jennifer in a week. Catching up with her for a few minutes won’t hurt anything.
She swirls a makeup brush in the air.
“I’m here for an early meeting with Elena,” I explain.
She nods, then looks me up and down. “You look comfortable.”
I glance down and realize I forgot to change out of Ryan’s shirt. It’s oversized and soft and worn in. Definitely not from wardrobe. Or my closet.
My stomach lurches. Before I can say anything, Elena’s voice rings down the hall.
“Wren! Get in here. Now.” Her voice cracks down the hallway like a whip. “Some of us are trying to run a show.”
I stiffen and look toward Jennifer. She gently shoos me on.
“We’ll talk later.”
I nod and then approach Elena, trying not to fidget with the hem of the T-shirt like a guilty teenager sneaking in after curfew.
Elena looks like a million bucks in a red wrap dress and white heels.
She waits for me until I reach the doorway, then marches into the conference room, sitting down and kicking her heels up on the table.
Marcus is right beside her with a tablet, chewing gum and scrolling with an intense expression on his face. He raises his eyes and smirks. He’s watching me like I’m a bug under glass and he’s going to trap me. I plunk down in the seat across from his. Elena turns to me.
“Let’s talk about how this season nearly went off the rails.”
I hesitate. “I think it’s going well, don’t you?”
She waves her hand like she’s irritated by everything. I brace myself. Elena never wastes time on meetings unless she’s about to detonate something.
“That depends on what your definition of ‘well’ is. It’s the most boring season of The Last Kiss I’ve ever witnessed. I’ve been here for twelve years.”
My eyebrows rise. “What do you mean, boring?”
“I mean the bachelor isn’t horny enough.”
Marcus snorts and looks up. “There’s more action in the B-roll between Raven and JacqLyn.”
“Exactly,” Elena says. “He hasn’t kissed half the girls. Don’t even get me started on the fantasy suite buildup. If this season tanks, we blame blue balls.”
I press my lips together, trying not to visibly react. Elena slaps me lightly on the hand.
“You know him, Wren. You guys go way back. Any idea how to get his mojo flowing?”
It just so happens I have exactly every idea of what will get his mojo flowing. But I can’t exactly share that with her.
“He’s, um… private. I’ve never seen him hit on anybody. I think girls mostly chase him around and he just accepts. Even on New Year’s Eve… and Cinco de Mayo… I’ve never seen him drunk.”
Maybe he’s just a slower burn than the usual contestants.
“Why hasn’t he ever been drunk, do you think?” Elena asks before I consider it. The answer is out of my mouth.
“Well, his mom… she had problems with addiction. Specifically, alcohol.”
Marcus looks at Elena, his expression worried. “Shit, really?”
I nod, wishing I hadn’t said anything at all. If he knew I had blabbed about his mom, Ryan would be really upset.
Elena tilts her head and taps a finger against her lips. “Interesting. Still, if the girls are drunk enough, maybe he won’t have a choice. Then maybe they’ll make the moves for him, like you suggested.”
I blanch. “I wasn’t suggesting anything like that.”
Elena waves me off. “I want you to come up with three activities guaranteed to make him loosen up. Horny is the goal. Think flirting. Think touching. Think jealousy, even.”
I nod quickly. “I’ll, uh… I’ll think about it.”
“Good,” she says. “Get to work.”
I get up and leave the room quickly, pretending that Ryan’s shirt isn’t burning my skin.
Tonight’s group date starts with everyone doing a shot of tequila together. I wince as it burns down my throat. I’m not much of a drinker. Tequila reminds me why. Liquor makes me too honest, too messy, too likely to reveal every secret I’ve ever kept.
It’s what the producers call a low-stakes bonding night. Which is code for dress casual but slutty, because we’re going to pump you full of alcohol and give you a reason to be stupid.
We sit on the back patio in a loose circle. Everyone is already buzzed. Ryan sits three spots away, beer bottle in hand, looking a little too serious for a man surrounded by tittering drunk women. He hasn’t looked my way once, like last night evaporated with the morning sun.
I haven’t spoken to him all day. He texted once earlier. Sleep OK? Then nothing. I didn’t answer because I didn’t know what to say. How do you casually respond after your entire heart unraveled in someone’s arms?
So now he’s acting like I don’t exist. Fine.
Two can play at that game.
JacqLyn spins the bottle and it lands on Raven. There’s a big bowl full of questions and dares. She waves her hands over it.
“What will it be? Truth or shot?”
Raven eyes her, then takes a shot before the question is even read. “I don’t trust you with any of my secrets. None of you.”
That gets a laugh. Next, it’s Nikki’s turn. I see that she has recovered from the hiking excursion and is gamely trying to act like it never happened. Okay, then. She chooses to take a gamble on the contents of the bowl…
Raven’s lips curve up as she reads the card.
“Do a lap around the patio wearing nothing but a beach towel.”
Nikki stands up looking jubilant. “I think a beach towel would be more than I’m wearing right now.” She looks down at her micro skirt and tube top. “What do you think, Ryan?”
Ryan smiles and tilts his head. “I think you’re right.”
Nikki does a quick lap and Raven takes a shot. The game is chaotic and loud. Divya lets Letitia eat whipped cream out of her belly button, which is hysterical for everyone.
Then it’s my turn.
“Truth or shot?” Raven asks.
I’ve had two shots so far and that’s too many for me, so I opt for the other choice. “Truth.”
Raven asks, “Who here do you think is faking it the most?”
I think about it for a second, look around the circle, then opt to take the shot. Because the person faking it most here is me, pretending Ryan hasn’t hollowed me out.
The whole group oohs and aahs . Ryan doesn’t look at me, though. He just takes a long pull from his beer.
The cameras circle as Ryan is up at the plate. JacqLyn reads a card to him.
“Kiss someone that you haven’t kissed on the show yet.”
He smiles but doesn’t move. He thinks about it for a moment and then shakes his head and takes a shot.
Everyone laughs, but there’s a ripple of uncertainty. My stomach twists uncomfortably. I refuse to believe that his hesitation has anything to do with me. But God, I hope it does.
I lean in, emboldened by the three shots of expensive tequila. “What’s the matter, Haart? You running out of eligible victims?”
Now his gaze finally cuts to me. “I just didn’t feel like faking anything tonight. Is that all right with you, Wren?”
Ouch. With a capital O.
I raise an eyebrow. “Is cryptic and broody your new personality trait, or are you saving that just for me?”
“You practically whisper around half the crew, but the second I walk in, you’re roasting me like I’m a marshmallow. Explain that.”
“Oh, fuck off.” I stick my tongue out at him and he grins.
The game moves on and JacqLyn takes her turn. As she enacts her dare, I move seats, slipping in next to Ryan and whisper, “Are you okay? Or are you just trying to pretend that I don’t exist again?”
His jaw tightens. “Maybe don’t start with me tonight.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “Did you wake up cuddling someone you didn’t want to deal with the morning after?”
He blinks, stunned. I can tell he wasn’t expecting that.
“I didn’t say that,” he murmurs, voice gone to gravel, as if the words cost him something.
“You didn’t have to. You’ve been treating me like a PR liability all day.”
Like I’m something to hide. Something regrettable.
He stares at me hard. For a moment, something unguarded flashes in his eyes. Hurt, confusion, regret. Then it’s gone.
Raven shrieks about JacqLyn picking strip truth or dare and the moment between us breaks.
We turn back to the circle, both pretending nothing just happened. But I can feel the pressure of his attention, like a bruise forming where his gaze touched me. My cheeks are flushed, my chest is tight. Ryan hasn’t taken his eyes off me once.
I shiver with the realization that once we’re alone, there will be no stopping him from taking what he wants.