Chapter 6 #2
He chews his lip and glances over at Paxton, but he doesn’t need to say even a word out loud.
With one look, Blake can tell that Pax is thinking the same thing he is.
Fuck Ava, they have to do this thing for their friends.
Because they deserve it, but also to prove all of these doubting motherfuckers wrong.
If there’s one thing Blake Lawrence doesn’t do, it’s lose a bet.
“Alright,” Vincent says, depressingly resigned as he holds up his newly refilled glass. “To Blake and Pax. Hope it’s worth it.”
It will be, Blake thinks.
_____________________
Rachel makes the rules crystal-fucking-clear as she walks them over to the suite.
Once inside, no touching. No hugging, cuddling, massaging, platonic showering or bath-taking together.
No hand-holding, foot rubbing, tickling, or play-fighting.
One touch and it’s game over, the money is gone for good.
From the self-satisfied look she gives him as Blake closes the suite door, she’s already counted them out.
Her mistake.
By mutual agreement, Blake and Pax give the cameras a good show before really settling in for the night. They chase each other around the room, laughing and shrieking and pretending that they have every intention of getting down and dirty any second.
Pax fills the tub and lounges in it seductively, sloshing water around and doing his very best to tempt Blake into it with him. For his part, Blake lingers in the doorway, acting like it’s absolutely killing him not to jump in.
He bites his lip, crosses his legs, blushes like a schoolgirl, and generally makes a big deal of acting like he’s truly torn, like he has no idea what he’s going to do.
It’s not actually much of an act, or at least, it doesn’t require a ton of acting skills on Blake’s part.
Pax’s slick, hard body is temptation personified, but Blake is resolved — he can make it one night.
“You’re comin’ home with me, right, Pax?” he flirts, tipping his chin in Paxton’s direction. “Straight from the airport, into my bed. No cameras, no Ava, nothing but you and me and whatever we wanna do together.”
“I already had production change my ticket,” Paxton replies, unable to suppress the smile on his own face. “Two days ago, when we were allowed to call home, I told Spencer. He’s very concerned.” Paxton laughs, swirling the water over his abdomen in a way that makes it ripple against his cut abs.
Rude, Blake thinks. Not about Spencer, but the way the water draws attention to Pax’s body, when he can’t so much as touch.
“You’ll have to stay over, when you bring me back next weekend. He wants the chance to grill you properly. My nieces too, of course. Vaughn will likely just hand you a Bible and tell you he’s praying for us both, so nothing to worry about there.”
“Can’t wait,” Blake tells him, leaning his shoulder against the door frame and folding his arms across his chest in an attempt to quell his desire to lose every last dime left in that pot.
“Hayden’s, uh, concerned too, but I also think he’s kinda happy.
He knows me well enough to get what a big deal it is that I—” He stops talking, snaps his mouth shut, somewhat unsure of what to say.
Yeah, Pax is coming home with him, but he isn’t moving in — not yet, anyway. Not that Blake doesn’t want him to.
One thing at a time.
“We’ll figure it out, Blake,” Paxton says gently, and when Blake refocuses his gaze, Pax has floated forward and is resting his arms on the edge of the tub.
“I know you have a life in Lebanon, a job that you enjoy. I really don’t have that in Alma.
Lebanon is close enough that I could still see my family whenever I like, and truthfully, I’m tired of being the failed triplet.
The one that lives above his brother’s garage, that everyone is just watching, holding their breath in anticipation of another mistake.
Since long before I came here, I’ve wanted to make a change.
Turns out, I needed to put some distance between them and myself to do so. ” He sighs.
“This whole thing, I auditioned on a lark. It was supposed to be a last hurrah of sorts, and instead — well, Blake, I hope I’m not embarrassing myself to say that this feels like the beginning of the rest of my life.
” Pax pauses, his cheeks flushing a little as he ducks his head.
He clears his throat, tone brightening. “Do you think that Lebanon might benefit from a yoga studio? Perhaps if I win some of the prize money…” He trails off and shrugs with one shoulder, disturbing the otherwise placid water with his feet as they readjust underneath.
“Regardless, if you and I feel the same out there as we do in here, we’ll make it happen. I have faith in us.”
“You do?” Blake asks hopefully. When Pax looks up, Blake knows, feels it in his bones — he’ll never tire of seeing that smile. “We are better together, aren’t we?”
“Yes,” Paxton says. “We are.”
_____________________
No one’s more surprised than Rachel that they make it through the night.
She’s at their door the minute Blake’s opening it, looking excited and genuinely thrilled, maybe the most honest Blake’s ever seen her act.
She smacks him on the chest, calls him a sly dog, and then talks into her headset, telling some poor PA to get everyone down to the poolside-portico.
Apparently, production doesn’t want to risk not capturing everyone’s real reactions to the news, or the chance that Blake and Pax might deliver it before Ava has the opportunity.
Blake can get that, although he’s somewhat salty about losing his and Pax’s last peaceful morning yoga session on the beach.
Their flight leaves early tomorrow morning, it’s unlikely they’ll have time for one more before they have to head out.
Blake quickly forgets about that when Pax steps outside the room and throws arms around his neck. He stops at the last second, limbs still hovering in the air, pulling back swiftly like he’s been burned and looking wide-eyed over at Rachel. “Am I allowed…?”
She giggles, tossing her head back and waving her hand at them.
“Go for it,” she says, and Paxton relievedly turns to Blake, this time grabbing him by the back of his neck to pull him close.
They’d tried to rest on opposites sides of the bed during the night, but half-asleep, one of them would always end up reaching out for the other.
After several near-misses, a grumbling Blake grabbed his pillow and rolled his touch-starved ass off of the bed and onto the floor.
He slept the rest of the night very uncomfortably on the suite’s shaggy rug.
It hasn’t even been twelve full hours, but the “good touches” Blake’s used to getting from Pax have been sorely missed.
If there’s one thing Blake has learned about himself during his time here, it’s that he needs this.
Needs the platonic affirmation and comfort of a hand on his shoulder or the small of his back.
Needs the boost he gets from Pax’s hand slipping into his, the security he feels drifting off to sleep with strong arms wrapped around his waist.
Right now, Blake shamelessly sinks into Pax’s embrace, relishing the way Pax’s nails scrape up his back and into his hair.
Production was nice enough to bring clean swimsuits to their suite this morning (but not shirts), so both of their chests are bare, and Blake could stay pressed against Pax like this all fuckin’ day long.
Except that it’s time to face the music.
Walking hand-in-hand onto the portico to a mixed round of cheers and boos, Blake can’t help but resent the way most of his cast-mates look resigned to their fate. Come on, he wants to say, friends have more faith in each other than this. Pax taught him that.
Ariana, at least, sends him a wink, her own hand wrapped firmly in Dani’s.