Lucy’s pulse thudded in her ears. The smart, safe, boring and very Lucy thing to do was to turn around, go back to thepool, and pretend this never happened. The best option would be to pretend she never had this dumb idea.
She shifted her weight and took one careful step back. But as she did, her calf hit the side of a lounger, and the sound of it scraping over the wooden deck might as well have been a gunshot cracking loud.
Inside the bungalow, Skye stopped dead. Her head turned toward the sound, and her eyes narrowed toward the door.
For a moment there was only the papery rustle of palm fronds and Lucy’s own ragged breathing. Had she spotted her? Had Skye seen Lucy out there on the porch?
Unfortunately, the answer was yes.
Skye crossed the room quickly and pushed the door open. When her eyes landed on Lucy, her entire face shifted. Confusion, then surprise. Then a look Lucy couldn’t place.
“What are you doing here?” Skye asked, frowning.
Lucy stiffened.
She was just about to apologize for interrupting, but instead of sayingI’m sorry. This is dumb. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here, other words spilled out.
“You’ve been ignoring me for three days. Three days, Skye. And I’m trying really hard not to read into it, but it’s impossible not to when you don’t pick me for anything. Not the group stuff or the one-on-ones. You act like I don’t exist. Like I’m invisible.”Her voice wobbled, but she pressed on. “And yes, I know it has to do with the other day, and clearly you think it was a mistake, but if you’re going to send me home, just do it already instead of freezing me out.”
The silence that came after felt thick enough to swim through. Skye was still watching her, but there was something else in her expression, something unsettled.
Lucy’s breath hitched. “Say something,” she muttered. “Anything.”
Chapter Thirteen
Skye stood frozen, blinking at the words spilling out of Lucy’s mouth like they were a language she only half understood. She had heard them, but they landed somewhere far away, like rain falling on a roof she wasn’t standing under.
She should say something. An apology. Maybe an explanation. Something that would make Lucy’s shoulders unclench. She should tell her that she hadn’t been ignoring her when in fact she had. She should lie. No, she should tell her the truth. Maybe she should tell her that she had done everything in her power not to include Lucy in any of the dates. It was better that way, wasn’t it? It would be best to avoid the complications not only for the show, where every moment was under a microscope, but for herself too.
But before she could say any of that, before she could launch into a careful apology that might explain why she did what she did, her body moved.
Skye closed the distance between them in three quick steps. Her palm cupped Lucy’s jaw. Her thumb brushed the curve of her cheekbone. And then she was pulling her forward.
Lucy’s lips parted in a tiny gasp, but Skye didn’t give her time to protest or to spill into another desperate monologue. Instead, she kissed her, softly at first, the way she’d touch something fragile, and then deeper, hungrier, like she’d been holding herself back for too long.
Three days had been too long.But they’d also been necessary.
Skye felt Lucy freeze for half a heartbeat as her breath caught against her mouth. She melted into Skye as her handsfound the back of Skye’s neck. Then her hands moved down, sliding to her waist until her fingers splayed over the fabric of the dress Skye’s stylist had chosen for tonight’s dinner.
Skye pulled back just enough to whisper against Lucy’s lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
Lucy frowned, her breath hot against Skye’s mouth. “You’re so confusing, Skye. Do you know that? I just can’t figure you out.”
Skye’s mouth curved, but it wasn’t quite a smile. “Good,” she said softly.
But Lucy wasn’t having any of it. Her eyes narrowed, yet her grip around Skye’s waist didn’t ease. “You kiss me like that and then you act like I’m a ghost.”
Skye tipped her head sideways. “You know I have to do that, right? For the cameras. For the other contestants. We shouldn’t even be doing this.”
Lucy blinked, clearly torn between pushing her away and pulling her closer. “Yet we are.”
“Yet we are,” Skye repeated. She brushed her lips against Lucy’s again, softly, slowly, and most certainly teasingly. Skye wanted this. She couldn’t be happier that Lucy had shown up at her door. Even if it was wrong. Even if they weren’t supposed to be doing what they were doing. “And you’re still here,” she whispered against her mouth.
Lucy made a sound, the kind that set every nerve in Skye’s skin alight. It was the type of sound that snapped whatever restraint she was feeling in this moment like a cheap hair tie.
She backed Lucy toward the edge of the bed, and then her fingers slid into Lucy’s hair. Lucy’s knees bent against the mattress, and Skye followed her down. One hand braced the back of her head, and the other ran the length of her thigh.
The soft drag of fabric over Lucy’s skin made her head spin. She was drunk on whatever was happening right now. High on Lucy’s touch.
