Chapter Five #2
Her gaze is fixed solely on my face before her chest rises in an inhale and she dives under again. The surface of the pool closes over her, rippling, distorting her shape.
I don’t know if she’s looking to escape, avoid me, preparing for what’s to come, or all the above. But when she disappears beneath the water, the pressure in my chest doesn’t ease. It builds.
Whatever enigma of a challenge is waiting for us tomorrow, something tells me it will only further complicate things.
Day Three
Lyla
I shouldn’t have listened to him.
That’s the part that won’t stop replaying in my head.
Fabric over my eyes. Rope gliding across my hands. His voice, low and steady, even when my heart couldn’t stop pounding in my ears.
You’re going to have to trust me.
And during that challenge, I did. The worst part?
It felt right, and I was drawn to follow.
But at the same time, I couldn’t. There was no way of knowing if I’d drop, no way of knowing he’d get me from point A to B without falling.
I just kept thinking, if I could sense for myself where I needed to go, what was in front of me, I could get myself across safely. But in the end, I fell.
I spent the rest of that day and through the night, talking to the other girls. I even entertaining the idea of Sean, though his idea of a conversation was more of a booty call than anything else.
Scott must have gotten the message because he didn’t say a word, either.
I ended up tossing and turning all night, restless. And when I finally woke up to the gray predawn light, I could see his silhouette. One arm flung over his eyes, the other hanging off the narrow cushions.
This is the second night he’s slept on that god-awful couch and not once has he complained. I hate that I notice. Hate that the sight of him cramped and uncomfortable twists something in my chest like guilt I didn’t ask for and don’t owe him.
Throughout the day, I’ve reminded myself what he did, to not give in to lingering feelings. They’re residual from a painful past and nothing more. But even so, my body still hums from yesterday. The way he’d touched me, the desperate hunger in his kiss, how easily I gave in.
His words especially keep circling like vultures that won’t land until their prey has died. I can’t process this. I can’t make it make sense.
“Okay, but seriously,” Emily says, sprawled across my bed while I pretend to organize my already-organized suitcase. “How much longer are you planning to avoid that man? We have another challenge.”
“I’m not avoiding him. I’m…giving myself space.”
She snorts. “That sounds exactly like someone who’s avoiding their ex.”
I shake my head.
“Girl,” she continues. “You’ve practically been doing elaborate gymnastics to stay on the opposite side of whatever room he’s in at any given moment. It’s impressive, actually. Like watching a very attractive game of human Pac-Man.”
I throw a bikini top to her. “Here, you can borrow this one. And I’m simply regaining leverage.”
“Regaining leverage over what? You can’t avoid him forever.”
My stomach knots into a fist.
After yesterday, I’ve been furious. Not just at him but at myself. For how fast I gave in to his kiss. How much my heart fluttered when he held me close to his chest as he swam us to safety. How much afterward I felt a craving for more.
For so long, I’ve learned to be on my own.
Sure, there were times I was lonely and gave in to the occasional date or hookup, but I took care of myself.
Yet all it took for me to melt into him was a kiss.
He still knows every button to push, every weak spot I have, and the fact that I gave in so completely makes me want to punch something—preferably him.
Avoiding him is the only way I can find control again. Can feel like I have power over whether this breaks me. If I let him close again, like before, I’ll only be repeating history. And I refuse to make those same mistakes.
So I’ve been moving like I’m walking through a minefield. Pool time when he’s in the gym. Breakfast and lunch positioned so other people act as buffers between us. Every strategic step is a deliberate fuck you to the part of me that still responds to him.
“There’s a difference between regaining leverage and hiding,” Emily says from the doorway.
“Enlighten me,” I snap, folding the same shirt again, harder this time.
“If you were regaining leverage, you’d be facing him head-on, setting boundaries, taking the reins. Right now, you’re just pretending he doesn’t still have the upper hand.”
“For such a confident, intense man, he’s being very patient,” she adds.
“How do you mean?”
“I’ve seen him try to approach you at least a dozen times in the last two days.”
“That’s the problem.” I sink onto the bed beside her. “He’s being…perfect. Respectful. Giving me space.”
Emily frowns. “Why is that bad? With what you’ve been saying, it sounds like that’s exactly what you want.”
“Because I don’t know what to do with it,” I say honestly. “There’s no changing what happened. But I also can’t move on with him and pretend the past doesn’t exist.”
“So you’re avoiding him because you’re scared of what happens if you don’t? If you let him in?”
I let out a short, controlled breath. “I’m avoiding him because I know exactly what happens if I let him too close. I’ll lose myself and get hurt in the process once he’s done with me.”
“How do you know that will happen?”
“Because it has before.”
“But you were teenagers, right? I highly doubt he’s the same person now as he was then.”
“That doesn’t change the memories I have of hurting and crying myself to sleep.”
Emily drops her shoulders, sitting up from the bed. “You’re right, it doesn’t. But if I were you, I’d be curious to know why he left.”
“The point is moot.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. An explanation would at least give you closure. Has he offered one?”
“Kind of? He’s waiting for when it’s just us, whenever that is, to give me an explanation.”
“Just you guys? That’s something you don’t hear every day around here.”
“How so? I think that just sounds like an excuse to delaying the obvious ghosting excuse.”
“If he’d just ghosted, he would have been nonchalant about coming here. No. Whatever he has to say to you, it has to be very important. Maybe even life-altering.”
I shake my head. “Maybe so, but the thing is I don’t know if I’m ready to hear any explanation from him. Quite frankly, I don’t know if I even want to.”
“Don’t shoot me, but from what I’ve seen since we got here, I think there’s still a connection between you and him.”
“A connection?” I can hardly believe her words. “The only connection there still is between us is his guilt.”
“If he only felt guilt, he would’ve just said his peace to you over the phone, not follow you onto a dating show. He’s here for a reason. And it’s much bigger than some apology or an excuse for the past. More than I think you’re willing to admit.”
“He walked out once. One day he was there, and the next he was gone. No warning. No explanation. I barely survived. I don’t know if I can risk going through that kind of heartbreak twice.”
Emily takes my hand, looking over at me. “I get you, but you’re bracing for something he hasn’t done yet.”
Before I can respond, a production assistant’s voice carries through the villa.
“Attention, contestants! Pool deck in one hour for today’s challenge and afterwards a special announcement!”
Emily and I exchange looks.
“That doesn’t sound ominous at all,” I mutter with sarcasm.
“From what I know about other shows, announcements mean one of two things,” Emily exclaims. “A rule change that ups the stakes…or new people.”
Fresh drama or fresh blood. I can’t tell which one is worse.
“Regardless, though,” I say, “new people tend to bring drama with them, intentionally or otherwise.”
“Fair point,” she agrees.
Despite the lack of control there is in this environment, from now on, I will cling to the one thing I still can control: avoiding Scott Bennett while I still can.
“Actually,” Emily says slowly, like she’s turning something over in her head, “this might not be the worst thing to happen.”
I shoot her a look. “Do I even want to ask?”
Emily shrugs. “You’re on a dating show. New people showing up might…shift the energy.”
I stare at her. “You’re suggesting I—what?—distract myself with these new people? Not exactly helpful if they’re the same gender as us.”
“I’m suggesting that if it’s a man, and an attractive one at that, someone you think you could get along with, you could simply…divert your attention to them. Expand your options. Your world doesn’t have to revolve around Scott.”
Open myself up to someone else? Get to know them? Explore a different connection while Scott watches? The feeling in the pit of my stomach grows. Not out of guilt but nerves.
Let him see me move on. Let him watch me smile at someone else, laugh at someone else’s jokes.
“Wouldn’t that make him jealous? I’m already doing that…kind of.”
“Definitely, but I think you could use better options than what’s here. I heard you turned down Sean.”
I wince. “Let’s just say it wasn’t going to work out.”
“I don’t blame you. Neither would Valerie. She said he can come off a bit…strong.”
We both laugh.
But then I shake my head. “I don’t want to use someone else to provoke my ex. That wouldn’t be fair to them if they had feelings for me.”
“You wouldn’t be using anyone. If you like whoever catches your eye, you should explore that. You’d just be reminding Scott he doesn’t get automatic access anymore.”
My pulse skips.
What am I doing? This is crazy—and low-key a bad idea.
But I at least have to try.
“And if it helps… Yesterday, when you went to go change for dinner, Sean asked Scott if you guys were still serious, and he snapped a deck chair in half right in front of him. Scared the shit out of Sean.”
I gasp.
He did that?
“That’s insane.”
“Call it what you want, but that man looks at you like you’re oxygen.”
Heat curls and pulls tight, traveling low in my belly, and I suddenly feel hot all over.
No. Bad Lyla. A man breaking furniture isn’t sexy.
I shake my head, pushing whatever pull I feel down immediately.
As we head downstairs an hour later, I catch sight of Scott on the pool deck. He’s talking to Bradley and Nick, but his attention goes straight to me when I make it onto the terrace.
Does he have a mental radar specifically tuned to me or something?
Seeing him steals my breath. Heat blooms in me. My heart pounds before I remember all the reasons I shouldn’t feel this way.
Emily’s right. I can’t keep running forever. But surrendering to this without answers feels worse. Yet I’m also not sure if I’m ready for them. I need to buy myself more time.
When Miranda appears with her crew and that exploitative smile, I get the feeling that this show is about to turn on its head.