Chapter 36
thirty-six
RYAN
My phone buzzes just as I’m finishing up another pointless conversation with Rich about “opening up emotionally for the cameras.” I glance down and see Coach T’s name on the screen.
Thinking about you, kid. Hope you’re remembering what we talked about. You deserve good things. Ellie’s doing great, by the way. Says to tell you she’s proud of you.
I stare at the message for a long moment, something tight loosening in my chest. Coach always knows exactly when to reach out, like he has some sixth sense for when I’m spiraling. The reminder about Ellie being safe, being proud of me… it hits harder than it should.
I type back quickly:
Thanks, Coach. Needed to hear that today.
His response comes almost immediately:
Trust your gut. And stop overthinking everything.
Trust your gut. Easier said than done when your gut is telling you to do something that could blow up your entire life. But Coach has never steered me wrong before.
I pocket my phone and go looking for Wren.
I find her in the kitchen, washing dishes that she definitely didn’t use. It’s one of her nervous habits, cleaning things when she’s stressed. She does it at Jay’s house, too, scrubbing counters that are already spotless when she’s anxious about something.
“Hey,” I say quietly.
She looks up. I can see the tension in her shoulders, the way her mouth is set in a thin line. “Hey yourself.”
“You okay?”
“Peachy. Just enjoying the lovely evening conversation with my housemates about what a fraud I am.”
I move closer, lowering my voice even though there’s no one else around. “They’re just scared. They can see which way this is going and they don’t like it.”
“Can they? Because I sure as hell can’t.”
She turns back to the dishes, scrubbing a plate with more force than necessary. I want to touch her, to pull her into my arms and tell her everything’s going to be okay. But we’re in the common area of the house and there are cameras everywhere.
“Meet me upstairs in ten minutes,” I murmur. “Third door on the right. It’s empty.”
She doesn’t turn around, but I see her nod slightly.
The unused bedroom is small and sparse, clearly meant for crew or storage rather than contestants. But it has a lock on the door and no cameras, which makes it perfect for what I need right now.
Wren slips in exactly ten minutes later, closing the door softly behind her and turning the lock. She leans against it for a moment, her eyes closed.
“This is insane,” she says.
“I know.”
“We’re going to get caught.”
“Probably.”
“Elena’s going to have our heads.”
“Most likely.”
She opens her eyes and looks at me. “And you’re still okay with all that?”
I cross the room in three strides, backing her up against the door. My hands frame her face and I can feel the way her breath catches when I touch her.
“I got a text from Coach T today,” I say quietly. “He reminded me that I deserve good things. That I shouldn’t overthink everything.”
“What does that have to do with us?”
“You’re a good thing, Wren. The best thing that’s happened to me in years. I’m tired of overthinking it.”
Before she can respond, I’m kissing her. It’s desperate and hungry and full of all the things I can’t say out loud. She melts into me immediately, her hands fisting in my shirt.
“This is a mistake,” she whispers against my mouth. “If we get caught…”
“Then we’ll deal with it,” I say. “Together.”
That’s what does it. Not the kiss. Not the promises. The together .
“Ryan,” she breathes against my mouth.
“I need you,” I tell her. “Right now. Right here.”
“Someone could come looking for us.”
“Let them.”
I can see the exact moment she gives in, when the worry leaves her eyes and gets replaced by want. She reaches for the hem of my shirt and pulls it over my head, her hands immediately going to my chest.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” she murmurs.
“Good. I want to ruin you for anyone else. I don’t want you to ever be satisfied by anyone else. Only me .”
The words come out rougher than I intended, but I mean them. I want to mark her, claim her, make sure she never forgets what it feels like to be touched by me.
I lift her easily, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carry her to the narrow bed. When I lay her down, she’s looking at me with an expression I’ve never seen before. Vulnerable and trusting and so beautiful it makes my chest ache.
“Tell me what you want,” I say.
“You. Just you.”
I take my time undressing her, pressing kisses to each inch of skin as I reveal it. I wait. Just long enough for her to nod. Just long enough for her to tell me without words that she’s sure. When I finally settle between her thighs, she’s trembling and breathless.
“Please,” she whispers.
“Please what?”
“Touch me. Make me forget everything else.”
I do. I worship her body with my hands and mouth until she’s writhing beneath me, my name falling from her lips over and over. When I finally push inside her, we both go still for a moment.
“Fuck,” I breathe. “You feel incredible.”
She pulls me down for a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue and desperation. She doesn’t just reach for me. She clings. Like she’s finally letting herself need someone. “Move,” she demands.
I set a rhythm that’s slow and deep, taking my time, despite the urgency clawing at my chest. This feels different from our other encounters. More intense. More real.
I don’t know when it happened. Somewhere between the sarcasm and the stolen kisses, this thing stopped being fun and started feeling like everything. The words claw at the back of my throat. They terrify me. But they won’t stay down.
“I’m so gone for you,” I tell her, the words torn from somewhere deep in my chest. “I’ve fallen so fucking hard it scares me.”
Her eyes go wide and she cups my face in her hands. “Ryan…”
“I know it’s crazy. I know there are a million reasons why this won’t work. But I can’t stop it.”
“I’m falling for you, too,” she whispers, and the admission sounds like it costs her something. “I tried not to, but I can’t help it.”
The confession breaks something open in my chest. I kiss her harder, moving faster, losing myself in the heat and tightness of her body.
“You’re mine,” I growl against her throat. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she gasps. “God, Ryan, I’m yours.”
When she comes apart beneath me, it’s with my name on her lips and her nails digging into my shoulders. I follow her over the edge, burying my face in her neck as the orgasm rips through me.
We lie tangled together afterward, hearts racing, skin damp with sweat. I trace lazy patterns on her back while she presses soft kisses to my chest.
“We’re in trouble, aren’t we?” she says quietly.
“Deep trouble.”
“I should probably care more about that.”
“Probably.”
She lifts her head to look at me. “Do you regret it?”
“Not a single second.”
“Even when Jay finds out and murders you in your sleep?”
“Especially then.”
She laughs. Really laughs. For the first time all day. “You’re insane.”
“About you? Hopelessly.”
We stay like that for as long as we dare, wrapped up in each other and pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist. But eventually, reality intrudes, and we have to get dressed and sneak back to our separate rooms and pretend like nothing happened.
“Same time tomorrow?” I ask as she’s fixing her hair in the small mirror.
“You wish.”
But she’s smiling when she says it. I take that as a yes.
I want to say yes. Hell yes. But part of me is already counting the cracks in the walls we just built this on. How long before it all comes down?