13. Hysterical Screams and Half-Naked People #2
And... did I already mention that this annoyance is growing exponentially right alongside my irritation?
My brain short-circuits.
"And. With. Me. Too."
I practically growl it, my voice coming out harsher than I intended. I step forward, reach out, and possessively grab his other arm, pulling him slightly toward me in a clear, shameless gesture of claiming.
The entire living room falls dead silent.
I feel Ron's muscle go rigid beneath my fingers. His gaze, when it meets mine, lights up with a look so brazen, triumphant, and loaded with promises that reality suddenly crashes down on me.
I realize what I just did. Heat flares across my neck and cheeks.
"I... I need inspiration. For my novel," I add hastily, my words tripping over each other, mortified beyond belief.
I drop my grip on his forearm in a split second, yanking my fingers back like the flannel of his shirt just caught fire. But the damage is done. And Ron Willers' devouring smile confirms that he is absolutely not going to let me forget it.
Exactly ten minutes have passed, and I am determined to erase the incident from existence. But Ron—my “new-cowboy-my-ass”—has clearly decided otherwise.
“Knock it off,” I hiss under my breath, shooting him a glare out of the corner of my eye the moment he casually throws an arm around my shoulders.
I have to go through every mental survival strategy I own just to stop myself from melting into him. It’s honestly exhausting. My body wants to give in, lean into his solid side, and get completely swallowed up by his warmth and that infuriating scent of cedar and leather.
Argh.
I grit my teeth and, with a sharp movement, shrug his arm off and step away.
“And yet…” he murmurs, leaning in slightly, that smile of his turning into pure trouble.
“I distinctly got the feeling ten minutes ago that you wanted to—”
“AHHHH!”
A sharp scream cuts him off, followed by a heavy thud as something crashes to the dirt floor.
Emma jumps back, tripping over her own feet, one hand flying to her chest as she nearly scares herself to death.
A bale of hay has just fallen from the upper loft, landing an inch from her boots.
We’d come out exploring the grounds and just stepped inside the old barn.
Twilight barely seeps through the gaps in the warped wooden planks, casting long, distorted shadows across the dirt floor. The high ceiling disappears into darkness, and old iron chains and rusty hooks hang from the beams above, as if waiting for something—or someone—to get caught in them.
In one corner, leaning against a termite-eaten pillar, are old farming tools: scythes, pitchforks, things that look like they’ve seen better centuries.
If a killer with a machete stepped out from behind the broken stalls, he’d honestly fit right in with the décor.
“Easy, easy, it’s nothing,” Levi says, already stepping in, voice steady as he comes to his friend’s rescue. He grips her arms lightly and looks up toward the shadowed loft.
"I-I nearly died of a heart attack," Emma stammers, shaking like a leaf, instinctively clinging to the firefighter's t-shirt.
And then, breaking the macabre tension of the place, Carolina chimes in. Timely and brazen as always.
"You know what we need to break the ice?" she starts, planting her hands on her denim-clad hips and looking around, her eyes sparkling. "Let's play Truth or Dare."
Cole watches her from under the brim of his hat. I strongly suspect he's just looking for yet another excuse to flirt with her.
"Are you serious?" he answers, his voice a slow, amused drawl. "That is always how horror movies start, Princess."
"Actually," Carolina counters, crossing her arms under her breasts and lifting her chin, "they usually start at an isolated summer camp in the woods, or on a vacation to Mexico."
Apparently, she got a solid cinematic education before signing up for this reality show.
Cole pushes off the post he was leaning against, taking a step toward her. "Yeah..." he murmurs, that rogue's grin spreading across his lips, "or in a creepy barn like this, right after a sexy girl suggests playing Truth or Dare."
Carolina doesn’t back down an inch. She drops her gaze, slowly and shamelessly scanning his hips before looking back up at him with open challenge.
“I bet yours is so small you don’t even want to play, just in case.”
A collective gasp goes through the group. Indya covers her mouth, barely hiding a laugh.
Cole doesn’t even blink. If anything, the insult just sparks something in him. He leans in slightly, closing the distance between them.
"Why's that, gorgeous?" he whispers. "You want to dare me to show it to you, just in case?"
Carolina parts her lips, ready to fire back, but she gets cut off.
"Okay, okay. We can either grab some popcorn and enjoy your banter, or..." Lizzie interjects, visibly amused. “Carolina’s idea sounds like a fun way to spend the evening, but… what about playing inside? Maybe grab something to eat and drink while we’re at it.”
“Do you think there’s anything in the kitchen? I could really use a drink,” Susan chimes in.
She twirls a blonde curl around her finger, her lazy gaze fixed on Cade.
The twin cowboy catches it immediately. Hooking his thumbs into his belt buckle, he looks at her like he’s already decided to have some fun with it.
“I highly doubt production would leave us here with no food or booze until Monday morning…” Ron says, glancing around.
“Yeah, come on. It’s as good a way as any to get to know each other,” Sam shrugs.
“Sounds electrifying to me!” Indya cheers, turning to high-five Carolina.
Emma, still stuck to Levi’s side, nods quickly. She looks like she’s fine with literally anything as long as it gets her out of the barn.
“Are you serious? Are we still in high school?” Emerson mutters, shaking his head with unbearable superiority.
“Come on…” Susan slides a hand up Emerson’s sweater vest and gently tips his chin up with one finger. “Don’t be such a buzzkill, professor.”
Emerson rolls his eyes so hard it’s almost impressive, but the flush creeping up his neck gives him away.
I just shrug it off.
I hate these games.
I catch Ron’s eye. He immediately picks up on my discomfort and throws me a bright, cheerful wink, full of that infuriating optimism that somehow both annoys and pulls me in.
“So we’re all in?” Josh asks, looking around for a final consensus.
Without thinking, we all turn at the same time toward Dustin and Sierra, who haven’t said a word since we got into the barn.
And… gross.
I instantly regret looking.
Dustin’s got a hand on her ass while they’re basically glued to each other’s faces.
“Guys…” Indya bursts out laughing, covering her eyes with one hand. “Please. A little decency.”
Sierra jumps and swats Dustin lightly, clearly just realizing they’ve been caught.
She quickly composes herself, adjusting her clothes and smoothing her messy hair. "We're in!" she squeaks, her voice an octave higher than normal out of embarrassment.