“He doesn’t think I can succeed without him.” Colton lets out a humorless chuckle. “Looks like you’re not the only one who thinks that.”
A sudden pain strikes my gut. While it’s true that I have thought that about Colton many times before, it’s different when your own flesh and blood believes it. I know all too well what it feels like to be a disappointment to your own kin.
“But I didn’t agree with Dad, so he proposed a deal.” He scratches his shoulder, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else but here at the moment. “If I win this show, he’ll support my decision to work in whatever practice I want.”
“And if you lose?” I hold my breath.
Colton stares at the ground. “Then I’ll have to work for my dad’s old law firm for the next five years.”
“Five years!” I exclaim.
“Shh.” Colton holds a finger to his lips and looks around, making sure I didn’t just alert everyone to our whereabouts.
“Five years,” I whisper, eyes wide with shock. “Colton, why on earth would you make a deal like that?”
He tilts his head back, looking up into the shadowy canopy of leaves. “For a moment there, I thought I could have it all. I thought I could choose my own path and still have my dad’s respect.” Colton’s eyes finally connect with mine. “But as soon as we made the deal, Dad smiled, and reality hit. The only reason he would be remotely happy about our deal was if he genuinely believed I would fail.”
Colton nods as if accepting this truth. He’s already told me all I need to know, and yet I want him to say more.
“All my life I’ve been trying to prove I am capable, only for Dad to believe so little of me. I guess in making the deal, it was my way of proving him wrong,” he finishes.
The air around us feels like glass, framing this fragile moment. Colton doesn’t open up easily, especially not to me. He’s trained to keep his emotions pent up inside of him. He’s never too sad or too happy; he’s just neutral. But right now, I feel like I’m looking through a kaleidoscope of Colton, seeing the bits and fragments of his life from a new angle.
“Colton, I’m sorry.” Instinctively, I think of reaching for his arm, wanting to show him he’s not alone, but he steps back before I can.
A smile rises and falls too quickly on his lips. His stance straightens. And I feel a wall shut me out. “It’s life.” He shrugs. “And now you know why I want to win.”
I bite my lip, mulling over his words and thinking about his earlier suggestion—the showmance. I might not trust Colton, but I can trust that he’s a Downing. And a Downing always fights for their future.
For some reason, I feel infinitely better about his crazy plan, especially knowing now that both of us have skin in this game, not just me. “Okay.”
Colton’s eyes flash. “Okay, what?”
“I’ll do it.” I nod. “I’ll be a couple with you.”
“Are you serious?”
I stick out my hand and he shakes it, and suddenly I feel like this might work. Both of us are going to fight for what we want, and if I have to fake date Colton to get there, then so be it.
Colton looks at me with a glint in his eye. “Just for the record, I’d play a darn good Peeta.” He smiles, baiting me.
“Good. ’Cause for the record, I was never Team Peeta. Finnick Odair for me,” I say before turning and making my way to the airplane, mentally preparing myself for the days ahead.
Chapter 12
COLTON
· DAY 7 ·
It’s been a long time since I’ve bitten my nails, but I’m not used to making relationships public on live TV, especially a relationship that is as fake as the adoring smiles I’ve been sending Missy’s way since I woke yesterday morning. It’s been nearly two days since we had “the talk,” and so far Missy’s idea of wooing me has been limited to full-tooth smiles with bits of mango in her teeth and a simple rub on the shoulder, which I accidentally flinched away from on instinct. We’re a real-life Romeo and Juliet, and by that, I mean we’re destined for a tragic ending.
Missy pulls my hand away from my biting teeth and squeezes it as gently as a trash compactor. She’s so loving, this girl of mine. I fight back the urge to bite another nail just to spite her, but I refocus on the task at hand and the part I must play. Tonight is our team interview with Niall, and we can’t mess it up.
A bright-orange sun begins to set behind the same jungle platform we use for all Black Box Meetings. But this time, only our beat-up teal seats, along with Niall’s pilot’s seat, take center stage, making the setting far more intimate.
Niall’s face gets a fresh coat of powder from the makeup team, while another crew member hands him a bottle of ice-cold water with a straw. Unlike our opening interviews, the stage crew ignores me and Missy entirely, leaving us looking like the sweat-soaked, dehydrated, and hungry humans we are.
I glance over at Missy who gazes at Niall’s drink with a dazed look in her eye.
