Chapter Eight
Lucy wasn’t sure what she had expected after jet-skiing her way into a date, but it definitely wasn’t paddleboarding.
Still, she wasn’t complaining. The sun was warm on her skin, the ocean ridiculously pretty, and Skye, who was stoic, confusing, and deeply attractive in a strange way, was standing a few feet away in a sleeveless rash guard, taking off her shorts to reveal pale but magnificent legs.
Lucy had to tear her eyes away before she became too obvious on national television. What would her parents say if they saw her ogling another woman while hundreds of thousands watched? What would her friends say?
“I’m impressed,” Skye said, fiddling with the ankle leash of one of the paddleboards lying face up on the sand. She was looking down as she spoke. A few strands of red hair had escaped her bun and were hanging in tendrils across her cheeks. “That was quite the entrance.”
“I’m glad I made an impression. Isn’t that what this show is all about? Making an impression on you,” Lucy said in a breathy voice.
Skye glanced toward her and smiled. The smile was barely noticeable, but nonetheless, it counted. Lucy tried not to look too proud of herself. Getting a smile out of the bachelorette felt like a win.
“So how did the whole thing work?” Skye asked. “How did you and Charlotte end up jet-ski jousting for my attention?”
Lucy laughed. She was already warm from both the sun and having Skye standing so close. “Well, after beach volleyball, when we all got back to the villa, there was an envelope on the patio table. Alexis spotted it first, of course.”
“Oh,” Skye said as her eyebrows scrunched slightly behind her sunglasses. “What did it say?”
Lucy could still remember the exact words since she had read them over and over again. “Want a chance at the one-on-one? Two of you will win the opportunity to scoop it up. Prove how badly you want it. It was very ominous.”
Skye choked on a chuckle and straightened. “Seriously?”
“Yup,” Lucy said, nodding. “We all thought it was going to be some athletic death match, but nope. We had to play Never Have I Ever.”
Lucy had only ever played that game once, and it was in college with her roommate Cassandra and four of her friends. Someone had said Never have I ever questioned my sexuality and everyone had laughed, including her, but Lucy hadn’t taken a sip.
She’d vowed never to play it again. Unfortunately, she couldn’t have gotten out of it even if she had wanted to. And she didn’t, because all she could think about then was seeing Skye again by winning that one-on-one.
“It started out normal… never have I ever gone skinny dipping.”
She hadn’t. Although there was that one time in Lake Tahoe, when she and her ex-girlfriend, Kat, had come dangerously close after too many ciders. But they’d chickened out when a group of teenagers had shown up with Bluetooth speakers.
“By round three, it was getting a little raunchier. It was things like never have I ever kissed my friend’s ex-girlfriend. Or, never have I ever done it in a swimming pool.”
Skye made a sound that was halfway between a groan and a chuckle. “And you won?”
“Ashamedly, yes,” Lucy replied, bowing her head dramatically.
“Well, Charlotte and I did. We were the last two standing,” Lucy replied.
“Turns out most of the girls had kissed their friend’s exes, dated someone in a band, and hooked up in a public restroom.
I guess I’m either boring or deeply repressed. ”
“I doubt that,” Skye said.
Three simple, innocent words, but somehow Lucy was suddenly aware of how hot it was, how warm her cheeks felt, and how close they were standing.
Without looking at Skye, she crouched down to unzip the tote bag that moments earlier had sat in the cabana and moments before had been carefully deposited on the sofa by one of the PAs. Inside was a beach towel, a bottle of sparkling water, and a tube of sunscreen.
“Would you mind doing my back?” Lucy asked, a little too bright and a little too suddenly as she pulled the tube out of the bag and held it up. “I can never get the sunscreen smoothed evenly.”
There was a pause. Not long, but long enough for Lucy’s brain to scream Abort, abort. This is a bad idea. How can you be so stupid?
But then Skye smiled and said, “Sure.”
And so, of course, Lucy’s cheeks started burning.
She turned quickly and pulled her hair up and away from her shoulders before Skye could change her mind.
She tried very hard to look relaxed. But when she heard the soft click of the cap on the sunscreen bottle, her heart rate sped up.
Her own heartbeat sounded loud in her ears.
It became even worse when Skye’s hands touched her back. And by the time Skye’s hands swept over her shoulder blades and across the nape of her neck, Lucy had to do everything she could not to let out a moan or make a face or say something stupid like, Your hands are ridiculously soft.
“You feel very tense,” Skye said, sweeping her hands along the sides of Lucy’s ribs.
“Sorry,” Lucy mumbled and let out a quick, awkward laugh that sounded nothing like her normal laugh. “I think I’m still on a high from the jet ski. You know how adrenaline soars through your veins during that kind of thing.”
Skye’s voice was soft behind her. “Makes sense,” she said. And then she dropped her hands.
Lucy resisted the urge to sway backward in order to chase the warmth of Skye’s hands that had just disappeared. Before she could even pull her hair back down, Marla appeared out of nowhere with a clipboard pressed to her chest.
“Hi, ladies,” she chirped. “It’s time to go paddleboarding. Remember when you first paddle out, keep your mics above the waterline, and if you’re having a conversation—”
“We are having a conversation,” Skye interrupted flatly. She stepped aside and grabbed her paddleboard off the ground.
“Right,” Marla said, undeterred. “Also, please keep your conversations playful and natural, but also like give us content, you know. I want flirty, introspective… even vulnerable if you think you can manage it.”
Skye let out a breath and turned toward Lucy. She gave her a look, not a big one. It was barely more than a twitch of her eyebrows and the tiniest roll of her eyes. But Lucy caught it. And just like that, her stomach was doing an acrobatic flip.
Damn. She loved that. Loved the little cracks in Skye’s exterior, the way she didn’t bother pretending for production.
Like earlier at volleyball, when she’d looked no happier to be standing on the side of the court than at a funeral.
It made Lucy feel like they were somehow in on something together.
Like she was meant to be on the show and like they were meant to find each other.
Which was ironic considering the only reason—well, at least the main reason—she was on this show was because of Kat.
Because Kat had decided to fall in love with someone else, someone who wasn’t Lucy, and propose no less than two months later.
If there was ever a slap in the face, it was that.
Kat had practically submitted Lucy’s application for her.
She was the real reason Lucy had replied to the email and applied to be a contestant on The Sapphic Match.
Lucy wanted Kat to see it. The hurt part of her wanted her to see Lucy falling for someone else.
The unhealed part of her wanted to rub it in Kat’s face.
Kat, just like Ben, had been obsessed with the show. Reality TV was like a religion to her. And so, what if a small, spiteful part of Lucy had wanted her to have a front-row seat?
“Flirty. Introspective. Vulnerable,” Skye repeated, her voice dry as dust. “Got it.”
Marla missed the sarcasm entirely. “Perfect,” she beamed. “We’ll be filming from the dock and from that kayak over there, but don’t worry, you’ll barely notice us.”
Lucy almost laughed. Sure they won’t. She took the other paddle and followed Skye down toward the floating dock. A PA handed her a dry bag and clipped a mic onto her bikini top. Lucy tried not to squirm.
“You ready?” Skye asked, already steadying her board with one foot on the dock. Maybe Lucy had it all wrong. Maybe Skye actually liked water sports. Maybe she was even good at them. Which made Lucy all the more nervous.
Lucy nodded. “I want you to promise that you won’t judge my form.”
“I can’t promise that.”
Lucy laughed. It was half-panicked, half-flirty. Despite the fact that her legs were strong, her body muscled, and she looked like someone who could throw a ball and catch it, her body often forgot how to function in three dimensions.
She crouched to push off. Her knees stayed bent, her legs wobbled, but somehow, she stayed upright.
The water shimmered beneath them. The sun sparkled above, and the cameras buzzed somewhere in the distance. Lucy didn’t say, I like you, Skye out loud, but she thought it a little too loudly. Loud enough, maybe, that it echoed all up and down her arms and legs.