It’s crystal clear that his body—as gorgeous as it is—is a tool for working out his insecurities. Whether it’s dancing in his room or lifting at the gym, he must use physical activity and his body as a means of deflecting negative emotions. I get it. But I can see past it.
“Yes, you’re a hunk. But even hunks can be adorable,” I say, sweetly condescending. “I like that I passed your test. It’s a good test, too. Not many people are willing to be that silly in front of big groups. I almost chickened out.”
He shrugs. “Some guys have turned around at the door. Some guys have made it inside with reservations. Only two have had the balls to sing with me.”
He doesn’t need to tell me who the other person is because it’s written all over his face, but I ignore it because we’ve given him too much talking space today already. I can tell Leo’s ready to move on. I lean over and kiss him on the lips—quick and sweet.
“I was thinking,” he begins, voice wavering a little. Damn, he’s adorable. I don’t care what he says or how ripped he is. He’s a muscley plush toy I can’t wait to take back up to my room and cuddle with. “Once the show is over and the pretending is done, we could agree to consider trying this. At least talk about it.”
The offer is possibly the sweetest I’ve ever received. My heart rate ratchets up, knowing the level of risk there is. “I’d like that.”
Leo grabs a ring-stained bar napkin and steals a pen off a receipt plate two seats away. He begins writing. “Right now, we’ve got to keep our head in the game. ‘In it to win it,’ right? We need the money, but after? After, I think maybe there’s a bigger conversation to be had.” His hand domes over mine, and a sudden heat whizzes through my body.
“What is that?”
“We signed something when we agreed to fake it. If we’re proposing something real, I figure we ought to sign something, too.” When he slides the napkin to me, he’s written out, in fake legalese, the terms of a new agreement.
Big conversations usually scare me, but the prospect of this one doesn’t. Maybe it’s because it feels like fate had a hand in this, and even if there are a million reasons to say no, I don’t because he makes me happy, so I sign his silly-sweet napkin.
Twenty
Leo and I are the first set of contestants to arrive for our rehearsal day.
My sheer level of excitement had me awake before the sun. I took my time showering, getting dressed, lazing around the hotel room while Leo slept peacefully, sprawled out and sheets spilling onto the floor.
We didn’t have sex again last night, but made out naked, rolling around and laughing into each other’s mouths, which sounds weird but was blissful. Leo has a way of making me feel like the outside world is a zillion miles away when he’s holding me in his arms, when he’s exploring my mouth with teeth and tongue, when he’s making me harder than I’ve ever been in my life.
But we fell asleep cuddled up close. Facing the world and this day beside Leo is both manageable and exhilarating.
“And this is the main set.” The production assistant waves in front of the soundstage where an exact replica of a grocery store has been built. There are four bisected aisles, a coffee spot, a deli counter, and a produce section. Overwhelming joy rains down on me.
This is my Oz. This is my Wonderland. “This is amazing!” I cry.
“Feel free to...” I’m off before she can finish. “Look around.” She stalks off, clearly used to contestants geeking out over this realistic grocery store where the boxes are filled with weighted Styrofoam instead of cereal.
“What happens to all this perishable food once the show tapes? Doesn’t it go bad between episodes?” Leo asks.
“They donate it to food banks,” I say, loving the charitable way they make the place look real without creating waste. “They’ve been doing it a long time. I’m just amazed how much you don’t see on-air.”
The fake grocery store is smaller than it appears in an episode. When I look up, I can barely see the ceiling between the crowded grid of lights and equipment blocking it. In front of the grocery store are the risers for the live studio audience. It’s amazing that in two days that whole area will be filled with eager viewers, cheering us on as we compete.
I stand there thinking of Mom, how she would’ve loved this, and how I hope she’s proud of me. That wonky feeling of guilt I had over Leo’s and my deception is erased now that, in my pocket, I have a promise printed on the back of a napkin. A promise we both signed in blue pen. Once the chaos of our game-show-extravaganza is over, we’re going to explore our connection, see if it works.
Our story is inching ever closer to the truth, minus a few details, which is enough for me.
Spending time with him, learning about his past, and having mind-blowing sex with him has unboxed emotions I didn’t think possible. The plan wasn’t to come to Los Angeles and fall for someone. Then again, the plan never panned out at any juncture so maybe I should’ve expected the unexpected.
I look over at him in his eggplant-colored crewneck, and realize that even in my wildest dreams, I couldn’t have come up with him.
In the back of my mind, I realize that we live on opposite coasts and Leo’s never been in a relationship before. Bad signs that would be hard to ignore under different circumstances, but I’m choosing to see the light at the end of this tunnel.
My stomach gurgles, anxiety manifested.
“You didn’t eat a lot at breakfast this morning. Do you want me to grab you something from the craft table?” Leo asks, striding up beside me. The production assistant had given us a full tour of the surrounding areas, including the long, fully-covered table of wraps and eggs and protein shakes. My eyes were eager, but my stomach wouldn’t come to the party.
Today is the day all my dreams start coming true. When that much is riding on something, it’s hard to take care of yourself.
“No, thanks,” I say. “It’s just nerves. I’ll be okay.”
