Chapter 5
After the warrior workshop, Blake and Paxton learn from Ava that they’ve finally earned an “official” date.
They’re told to wear swimsuits and to meet at the Jacuzzi at nine that evening.
Blake gives a confessional interview that mostly consists of him wiggling his eyebrows at the camera suggestively, and then accepts Vincent’s invite to lift some free weights down on the beach.
Vincent isn’t so bad, once you get past the money-focused exterior, and Blake can definitely see himself keeping in touch with the guy down the road.
They’d probably have an awesome time bar-hopping together.
Somewhat belatedly, Blake realizes he doesn’t even know where Vincent is from, if hanging out with him on a weekend would even be possible.
Even more belatedly, Blake realizes he doesn’t know where Pax is fucking from.
How could they have gone this long and had the kind of conversations they’ve had without even touching on that?
As Blake starts another rep cycle, working in with the ten pound weights he’s sharing with Vin, he’s stunned.
He really doesn’t know where Pax lives and Pax hasn’t asked about him, either.
Maybe this is a function of each of their subconscious trying to protect them from facing a shitty reality where they both have lives and families and a thousand miles in between them.
By the time Vincent calls it a day on exercising, Blake’s brain is filled with worry, no longer looking forward to their date because he knows he has to ask Pax where he’s from.
Whatever happens after that, things will never be the same.
Once that info is out there, it’ll be that much harder to pretend, to enjoy whatever time they have left here together.
Depressed, Blake avoids Pax until then. He takes a ridiculously long shower and then hunts down Ariana to grab dinner and play cards in a patch of shade in the courtyard.
He keeps quiet about his fears even to her, knowing that Ariana is just going to reiterate what Blake already knows — that all he can do is find out the truth and go from there.
Still, it haunts Blake. Pax has family, real family. Triplet brothers who saved his life! No way is he going to pack up and leave all of that behind for a do-nothing mechanic like Blake, just because they had some good times and a killer spark on what amounts to a glorified vacation.
And Blake — Blake has Charlie and the shop, and his debts.
He owes Charlie, can’t just abandon him to follow some crazy romance across the country on a whim.
The worst part of that is knowing Charlie would let him, would tell him to fuckin’ go.
Not just Charlie, but Jess, Jess’ mom Jackie who’s always been like a mother to Blake — they’d all understand. They’d want him to be happy.
All the more reason why Blake can’t do that to them.
Time to face the music, he thinks, when the sun has gone down and it’s fully dark, so much so that he and Ariana can barely make out the shapes on the cards in their hands anymore. While they’re packing up, Rachel appears on the portico and taps her wrist.
“Yeah, yeah,” Blake calls back morosely, and she raises her eyebrows. It’s true that Blake was beyond excited for this earlier, no wonder she’s confused. Whatever, they’re going to find out why his mood has changed soon enough.
To be fair, the hot tub looks inviting as hell.
The producers have cleared the other members of the cast away from the immediate area, which is nice.
Although, Blake can see some of them gathering by the fire pit down at the beach, chairs arranged on the ocean side and facing the pool so that they can creep on his date.
That’s kind of amusing, and no weirder or more intrusive than the camera guy crouching on the far side of the tub, or the microphones strung around his and Pax’s necks.
Pax shows up right after him, making his presence known by sliding arms around Blake’s bare middle, his shirt already off and slung over a nearby chair.
“Heya, Pax,” Blake says, turning in Pax’s arms and just barely resisting pecking him on the lips in greeting.
He rubs their noses together instead, and Pax’s face scrunches up happily.
“Hello, Blake. This looks very nice,” he says, motioning to their set up. There’s champagne chilling on ice, as well as platters of fruit and chocolates laid out on the tiled extension off of the back of the tub. “Shall we?”
It’s a good night for a dip in the hot tub, cooler than Blake’s experienced it being here as of yet. Maybe mid-to-high sixties, if he had to guess, and with a solid breeze. The hair on his arms prickles and Blake eyes the fluffy robes someone has left out for them to use after with appreciation.
Pax watches as Blake steps into the warm, bubbly water and sinks down, his bottom lip drawing in between his teeth the way that Blake has learned it does when Pax is having dirty thoughts.
“See something you like?” he asks cheekily, mirroring the action when Paxton slides closer to him on the underwater bench.
“Always,” Paxton replies easily. Blake admires Pax’s openness, how free he is with his thoughts and desires. He could learn a lesson or two from that, might even be better off for it.
Hell, Blake thinks. No time like the present. He takes a deep breath and swishes his hands around underneath the frothing water.
“What’s wrong?” Paxton asks, the smile dropping from his face. His body language closes off slightly — protectively, and Blake rushes to reassure him, as much as he can.
“It’s not like that,” he says quickly, lifting a dripping hand to scratch at the back of his neck.
“It’s just — Vin and I were talking earlier, and I realized I don’t even know where you’re from.
We never…” Blake trails off a little helplessly and shrugs.
“Had me all up in my feelings, ’bout how you probably live two thousand miles away and maybe because of that, our relationship might…
have an expiration date that it otherwise wouldn’t. Say if we met in a bar, or something.”
To Blake’s shock, Paxton responds with a burst of laughter. Blake’s head snaps up, incredulous and maybe a little irritated at the reaction. “Dude,” Blake says, offended, but Paxton waves him off and slides closer, slinging his legs over Blake’s thighs and wrapping arms around his neck.
“You didn’t know,” he says, his tone full of surprise and awe.
“Uh…”
Paxton laughs again. It’s not mocking, but Blake’s definitely not following, either. “You didn’t know,” he exclaims, slapping Blake’s chest in excitement, leaving a wet approximation of a handprint behind.
“Yeah, Pax, we’ve established that I don’t know whatever it is you know. Care to clue me in?”
In his arms, Pax darts a glance over Blake’s shoulder, presumably at whatever producer is hovering just out of sight of the cameras, before re-focusing on Blake.
“I assumed they told us all the same information,” Paxton says coyly, circling a finger around Blake’s nipple and making him shiver.
“When Dani and I were waiting to be brought over, we received basic info on all of you. Nothing overtly revealing — both Dani and I assumed it was to lessen our disadvantage for being newcomers. But then we arrived here and you all had barely met. It would appear, in retrospect, that we were manipulated.”
Confused, Blake catches Paxton’s hand as it begins to lazily travel south. “Hold up — what are you saying? You know where I’m from?”
His smile stretching further, Paxton nods. “You live in Lebanon, Kansas. Two hours and forty-five minutes northwest of a small town outside of Topeka called Alma, where I live with one of my two brothers.”
The information takes a minute to fully process in Blake’s head, and then he’s yelping for joy, reflexively leaning in to kiss Paxton and only remembering not to at the very last second.
He tackles him down onto the bench seat instead, getting them both soaked and pushing Paxton under.
Pax surfaces, beaming, and wipes the water from Blake’s face with his hand, which is totally ineffective.
“Shut the f— I grew up in Topeka. What are the chances? But wait,” Blake says, sitting back just slightly. “Does this — is that the only reason you talked to me?”
“No, buttface,” Paxton replies, splashing him admonishingly.
“You drew my eye from the moment I stepped off of that boat. I only had your name and information, not your picture. I was looking for Blake Lawrence, yes, but I had no idea who you were until you told me. And by then—” Paxton leans in, way too close, skating his lips teasingly close to Blake’s. “—I was done for.”
“Just like that, huh?” Blake murmurs, brushing the tips of their noses together.
“Just like that.”
Blake pauses, glancing hopefully down at his wristwatch, but it’s dark. “Damn it, Ava, we’re connecting left and right over here. Throw us a bone. Or let one of us throw the other a bone, either way. I’m not picky.”
“That was terrible,” Paxton remarks, but he’s chuckling. There’s a moment of silence, and then, “Blake? Forgive me for being too forward, but does this mean you’d like to continue this — whatever is between us — once we return home?”
It’s a big question, and one that Blake should fear answering on camera, especially since the way Pax asked, he didn’t give any of his own intentions away.
Blake could still end up heartbroken and humiliated here, but somehow, he doesn’t think that will be the case.
Anyway, he spent all afternoon moping about the possibility that he’d never even see Pax again after filming, so he’d be pretty damn stupid not to ride this wave.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “If you would.”
Pax’s smile can’t lie. “I really would,” he replies.
There’s no doubt in Blake’s mind that they would have kissed (and with zero regrets), if Ava hadn’t chimed in right at that very moment.