Maybe a little too much.
I cleared my throat. "Crimson."
"Taylor."
"I know. I saw your file."
Taylor took a sip from his drink. "Good to know we're on an even playing field."
The sarcasm dripping from his comment felt like a verbal backhand, yet it excited me. He wasn't rubbing against me like Alaric, or meekly watching me from afar like the other contestants. He had a spine.
I gestured to his glass. "Virgin?"
Taylor pointedly raised a brow.
Fuck me.
"The drink," I clarified. "Not you."
He kept holding my gaze. "Yes."
"You don't drink?" I asked.
"I don't like being in altered states of consciousness. Especially while I'm being filmed on a remote island with a bunch of strangers."
I smirked. "Isn't that what you signed up for?"
"Can't argue with that," he mumbled before taking another sip.
Taylor clearly wasn't thrilled to be here. He didn't even seem to give a shit that he was speaking to an alpha dragon. That intrigued me.
Among the crowd, I saw Alaric fuming. He made no effort to hide the contempt on his face as he glared a hole in the back of Taylor's head.
Two other men watched us intently. One grinned ear-to-ear, while the other looked on shyly.
"Friends of yours?" I asked, nodding to the pair.
Taylor's expression softened. "Yeah. They're the reason I'm here."
I blinked, taken aback, then laughed. "Ouch. What a blow to my ego."
"I couldn't care less about your ego," Taylor said mildly. How he uttered such a cruel statement in such an inoffensive and charming way, I had no clue. Before I could banter with him further, he asked, "Why don't you go talk to them instead?"
"You don't seem to understand how this works," I said playfully. "I'm the alpha dragon you're competing for. You're supposed to claw your way to the top for my affections."
Taylor shot a fierce glare my way, his burning eyes stabbing into me like shards of amber. It sent a shiver down my spine. I liked that he challenged me.
A doubt in the back of my mind flared up. What if this wasn't the real Taylor? Was he playing a game? I wondered if he'd adopted a thorny persona to stand out from the crowd. There was only one thing to do: spend more time with him and find out.
I half-expected him to insult me and storm off. Instead, he coolly picked up his drink and said, "Excuse me," leaving without fanfare.
Well, that certainly wasn't the dramatic TV moment it could've been. Maybe I'd read into Taylor's behavior too much. Whatever went on in his mind, it fascinated me.
Perhaps this experience wouldn't be allthatbad.
Seven
Taylor
