Chapter 5 #2
Except I don’t go toward my door.
I grab the takeout bag from the passenger seat and look toward the apartment on my property that hasn’t ever had anyone there.
The light is on, and my chest tightens before I even see her.
I make my way up across the driveway and up the steps, my pulse racing with each one I take. Stopping at the top, I hesitate for half a second. I know she’s awake because she said she would be up late working.
Finally, I lift my hand and knock. The sound feels too loud in the quiet night.
I hear a shuffle on the other side of the door and see the doorknob jiggle, but the door doesn’t open. She curses on the other side of the door as the handle rattles like she’s fighting it.
“Step back. I got it,” I tell her.
Reaching for it, I give the door knob a little twist and push it, and it finally gives way.
The momentum forces me through the doorway and fully into her space.
I stumble but catch myself as my eyes trail from the ground, to her exposed legs from the shorts she has on, and up to her face.
Our eyes meet at the exact same time and for a suspended second, neither of us move.
It hits me all over again how unfairly beautiful she is.
She’s not styled for an interview or a meeting with the production crew.
That blonde hair I remember tangled in the hotel sheets, is now twisted into a messy bun.
There’s a softness around the edges that I didn’t get to see that night in the city, when everything between us has been loud and fast and reckless.
Not long ago, she was a stranger I didn’t allow myself to imagine a future with. Now, she’s here and I don’t know where to put the awareness of her without letting it show.
She’s like an angel in the night that’s just waiting to burn me alive.
I clear my throat. “Hi.”
The air shifts between us the longer she stares at me. She finally blinks, as if coming back to the moment after learning I’m the one she was texting. Her shoulders relax a fraction and I can visibly see her breath. “Hi.”
“I’m sorry about the door. I’ll get that fixed for you tomorrow.”
“So you’re my temporary landlord?”
I extend my free hand in front of me, a smile on my face. “I’m Tucker, nice to meet you.”
She raises a brow. “You’re serious right now?”
“Deadly,” I say. “I’m trying to build a reputation. Starting with a door apology and a handshake.”
She laughs. And it’s the type that makes me want to hear it again just to be sure it’s real.
I lift the bag in my hand. “Oh, and a burger delivery.”
Her laughter dies down, but the smile doesn’t waver. “Thank you.”
She steps forward to reach for the bag in my hand, and a mix of vanilla and something floral hits me, like her skin carries springtime with her.
It draws me to her, but I try not to step too close.
When she grabs the bag, our fingers brush for half a second.
The contact is light, yet it sends a quiet shock through me, like my body remembers something my brain never fully forgot.
It’s familiar and dangerous as it settles into my skin.
“You’re saving my night with this,” she says, lifting the bag. “I haven’t made it to the store yet.”
“I figured.”
She narrows her eyes and tips her head to the side. “Nan told you that, didn’t she?”
“She heavily implied it.”
A soft laugh slips out of her, and it loosens the tension in my body.
“So…” she draws out, biting down on her bottom lip and rocking back on her heels. “I’m sorry. I just can’t believe that of all the people in this town, you’re my landlord?”
I shrug. “It could be worse. I hear the other side of town has a moose that looks through your windows while showering.”
She laughs, louder this time and its music to my ears. “Yeah. That’s definitely worse.”
All I can do is stare at her, feeling the smile widen on my lips as I take it all in. We both still stand here in the entryway of the apartment, unmoving, staring at each other while the air between us crackles. It’s different from being at the house yesterday.
She’s different.
“Do you…want to come in?” she asks.
It’s casual, almost careless. Something in the way she says it feels like she’s testing herself.
The clipped answer and controlled distance on site earlier is gone.
In place is something more uncertain, like she’s deciding in real time how close she’s willing to stand to me.
And I don’t know what shifted between yesterday and now.
I only know this is the first time we’ve been alone since our night in the city, and the weight of it settles into me in a way I didn’t expect.
“If you’re sure.”
She nods, stepping back to make room for me. “Just ignore the chaos. I haven’t unpacked my bags.”
I follow her to the small kitchen table I had put in when I first moved here, thinking I’d have it in me to allow someone to rent this, but never did. Until now. Until her. She has her laptop open and papers scattered beside it. She moves it all to the side to place the takeout bag down.
She pulls the container out of the bag. She looks at me and then gestures to the other seat. “Sit, Tucker.” And the way she says it makes me melt. Like I’d obey anything she told me to do at this point.
This is so fucking dangerous.
Moving to the drawer, she brings out a knife and a plate before cutting the burger in half and sliding the other half to me.
“Oh no. This is for you.”
“I’m not eating this entire burger at midnight.” She chuckles. “We can share.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” I say before I can stop myself.
Her breath catches. Just barely, but I see the way her cheeks pink.
“I’ve been thinking about what the producers told us.” She looks from her plate to me. I feel the tension creeping into my body again because I know what she’s talking about. I’ve been thinking about it nonstop myself. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if it’s going to work.”
“What do you mean?”
The edges of her eyes soften just a fraction.
“Us doing that whole dating thing in front of the cameras. I just want to focus on doing this house, and…” Her voice trails off as she averts her eyes from me.
“Doing it right.” Then she faces me again.
“But I keep thinking about it since she brought it up. About what it would look like.”
Little does she know, I could do this with her—for her.
I can be whatever the producers want me to be. I might be too broken for a real future with anyone but faking it? That I can do.
I already do it every day.
I shrug. “I think it’s your show, not mine. I’m just the guy making sure the house doesn’t collapse on national television.”
“I hate that it matters this much, but…” She trails off, as if thinking of her next words carefully. “This show…it’s my shot. I can’t afford to be stubborn about every little thing.”
I watch her carefully. The way she takes a steady breath, I don’t say anything more to allow her to keep going.
“I don’t want the story of the house to disappear behind something messy or fake.” She sighs, looking down at the plate in front of her. “But I also don’t want to spend the entire season fighting them.”
I sit here. Frozen. Because I didn’t expect any of this.
With how she acted toward me earlier today, I thought she’d shut down their idea. I thought it would be a hard no.
When her eyes meet mine again, I see it.
That familiar spark.
That reckless softness I remember from the bar in the city.
“I think…” She clears her throat. “I think I’m done pretending I don’t already know what my answer is.” My pulse kicks hard against my ribs as she continues. “I don’t love the idea. But I don’t hate it either.”
“If this is what it takes to help you, I’ll do it.”
Her head tips to the side. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
She narrows her eyes, curiously. And it hits me.
The difference between seeing me on the property to seeing me here.
She doesn’t trust me because I left her.
I fucking left that morning without a goodbye or asking for her number like it didn’t matter—like she didn’t matter.
At the time, I thought keeping it casual would protect me, but now all I feel is guilt.
And I carry enough of that with me through life.
But if this is a chance to show her that I’m not that guy, then yeah, this is the least I can do.
“I’m not a complicated person,” I continue when she doesn’t say anything back. “I’m also not the type to flake when it comes to my agreements. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll be there.”
She searches my face with a long look, trying to figure out what my angle is, but there is none.
She exhales a breath that resembles relief, brushing the loose strands of hair that have fallen from her messy bun out of her face.
“If we do this, we keep it simple. Professional. No mixed signals like last time.”
And there it is. Confirmation of my thoughts just moments ago.
No mixed signals like last time.
That hurts more than I want it to, because there were no mixed signals that night.
If it wasn’t already late, and I wasn’t exhausted, I’d open that can of worms and tell her exactly how I felt about her that night—how I didn’t want to leave, but Dallas was eager to get on the road and back home to Bluestone Lakes.
I nod anyway. “Got it.”
“On camera, we give them what they want. Off camera…” She trails off, still staring at me. “We don’t blur the lines.”
I smirk. “I’ll do my best.”
The corner of her lip twitches like she’s fighting a smile. “You’re impossible.”
“But I’m reliable.”
Her gaze softens, just for a moment. She picks up a french fry and pops it into her mouth. I can see by the way she’s sitting there in silence that she has a dozen questions.
“Scottie?” I say, forcing her to look at me again.
“I might not be the guy you’d want with you in front of the camera, but I am the guy who can keep things together.
I’m hardworking and a good friend. If you’ll allow me to be that,” I say with a wink, keeping the conversation light when it’s anything but.
“But I want you to know, you can count on me for this project, for this arrangement.”
Her expression is unreadable as her eyes flicker over my face like she isn’t sure if she wants to believe me. But I can tell she does. I see the shift in her eyes.
“That’s all this needs to be,” she says. “I’ll let Andrea and Jade know we’re in when I talk to them in the morning.”
I nod, standing from the chair. “I’ll see you soon, Scottie.”
I have no idea how I’m going to make this work when the cameras are rolling.
But as I head back to my house, I tell myself I can do this.
Fake is safe.
Fake is easy.
If I ignore the hollow ache sitting in my chest, maybe I can almost believe it.