Since Mason’s here, all the teams must be finished with their judging. We are free to do whatever we like for the rest of the day.
Cole and Jerome were talking about snowboarding at Keystone, which sounds like a fabulous idea. Except the last time I went snowboarding, it was with Brandon. We were together in a group. It was Riley, Lauren, Brandon, Harrison, Grant—a guy Lauren was dating, and me. We ended up staying overnight at Grant’s grandparent’s lodge, and I talked to Brandon until sunrise.
Mason leans in, and his palm settles on my knee, bringing me out of my melancholy memories. “I lost you just now.”
Before I can answer, Quinn walks by. She flushes when she sees Mason, as most of the younger contestants are prone to do, but then her eyes zero in on his hand. She stops dead in her tracks, staring at us.
“Hey, Quinn,” I say, casually moving my leg.
I knew we shouldn’t have been out in the open.
Feeling awkward, I clear my throat. “How did judging go?”
The girl is adorable with black hair and warm skin. She’s a year or so older than I am, but her wide eyes make her look innocent and young. She and her mother were amazing in the kitchen. They laughed and chatted like they weren’t competing in a nationally televised show as they whipped up their molasses creations. When they were done, they ended up with some beautiful cookies. I have a feeling they are going to be a team to watch.
She blinks several times. “Fine, I think. Um…you know how it goes. There’s always something.”
I nod. “And they argue with each other.”
Finally, that eases her discomfort. Her stance softens, and she laughs. “I know! I felt like I was watching a game of tennis as they bickered.”
Her eyes fall on Mason’s hand again, which is now resting on the cushion between us. Apparently feeling brave, she blurts out, “Is it true?”
“Is what true?” I ask before Mason has a chance to answer.
She lowers her voice to a whisper. “Are you two secretly dating? Is that why Mason was moved to host?”
I open my mouth to shoot the rumor down, but Mason beats me. “She hasn’t even made me a poster yet.”
And though Mason gives the girl a knowing look, it’s for me alone. Quinn stares back at him, understandably perplexed.
“No, we’re not dating,” I say, shooting Mason a frown. “Obviously neither of us would be willing to jeopardize our position in the competition.”
Then I realize my assurancemakes it sound like that’s the only reason we’re not together. Not the fact that he’s a multi-platinum performing artist and I’m a nobody college girl who still has no idea what she’s majoring in or where she’s going with her life.
The funny thing is, for the first time, I’m all right with not knowing. I’ve always strived so hard to be perfect, to plan every tiny detail in my life. Leaving Texas for Brandon was the first spontaneous thing I’ve ever done. And though that whole thing ended as badly as it could have…it still felt freeing. And it brought me here.
“Just be careful, Harper,” Quinn says, glancing toward the hall that leads to the dining area. “Because the contestants are talking, and there’s a certain team that would like nothing more than to see you sent home.”
“Let me guess…they’re blond and cosmetically enhanced?” I deadpan.
Quinn snorts out a laugh, and then she purses her lips as she nods. She leaves after that, and I think about what she said. How did Sadie and I make enemies out of Chrissy and Christy so quickly?
Mason stands as well, but before he goes, he leans close to my ear, whispering. “My room, ten o’clock.”
My stomach gives a soft little flip, and I don’t even bother to fight it this time.
Quietly,I slip into the hall and hold down the handle as I shut the door so Sadie won’t hear me leaving. But I blow it when I turn around and squeal.
Holding my hand over my racing heart, I level Brandon with a glare that should bring him to his knees and hiss, “STOP that!”
He smiles, but there’s no humor behind it. “Harper Marie, where do you think you’re going at ten at night?”
I roll my eyes. “Ten, Brandon. Not midnight, not three in the morning. Ten o’clock.”
Instead of answering, he closes the distance between us and shoves a hand into my back jeans pocket. Without lingering for even a second, he snatches my room card, crams it into the lock, and opens the door the moment the light blinks green. Then he unceremoniously drags me inside, shutting the door behind us.
My heart hammers in my chest. I wish it were because of the indignant fury rising in my chest, but sadly, it’s not. Oh, it’s not at all.
