“You’re a service top. You know what? You should get your ass to camp. You’d love it here.”
“Hey, Gigi.” Lamé turns at the sound of my voice. “I have a question.”
She stops talking and the computer gets turned my way. “Yeah?”
“Why did Zion’s people reach out?”
“I’m the one who—”
“No. No, in the beginning. The very first time. For the setup? The PR marriage angle? What did they tell you?”
“Ratings.”
“Ratings,” I repeat. “What ratings? We weren’t on TV. He’s not on TV. What…what the hell did that mean?”
She considers. “It was about his image. You gave him gravitas.”
“Right. So, I was there to make him look like a serious actor instead of a big action star. Which would have worked out if we hadn’t…”
I look up to see their faces both totally focused on me. “Hadn’t…?” Lamé urges.
“Wait. Was this the thing? When you…”
“We made out.”
Lamé smiles, then abruptly frowns. “Made out how?”
“Movie night. Popcorn. A rom com for me followed by a horror for him.”
“Figures,” Lamé says.
“I fell asleep and woke up and he was…we were…”
“What? What, seriously. What?”
“He was hard, behind me. Just spooning me, you know? And I turned and sort of…ran my hands over him and he did the same and then I leaned in and tried to…” I touch my lips, blushing, hard. “He stopped it. Like, quickly shut it down.”
“Prick!” Gigi’s pissed.
“Hey!” Lamé lowers their face to the computer camera. “I get to call him that. You don’t.”
“I stand corrected.”
“The poor prick.” Lamé sighs.
Gigi cackles
“What?” I ask, feeling the emotion in Lamé’s voice.
“Did you two actually kiss?”
I shake my head and then stop. “Almost? Kind of?”
“Tell me.”
“I kissed him. Like, on his neck and…” I move my hand from my neck up my jaw to my cheek, my forehead. “We were close. Noses rubbing, lips touching.”
“And?”
