When Miranda finally calls time, Damon and I are still at the starting line, rope snapping taut between us, frustration thick enough to choke on. My fingers shake as I unclip.
“Scott and Valerie win!” Miranda crows, all glitter and triumph.
Valerie is flushed and laughing, glowing like she just won more than a dinner. Scott stands tall and unruffled, the rope slack between them as if it never dared to fight them once. Not a drop of sweat. Not a single misstep. She beams, shoulder brushing Scott’s chest as she tilts her head up at him—proud, pleased, possessive. He doesn’t move away. Just gives her one controlled nod.
My chest tightens so hard I feel it in my ribs.
Suddenly every eye is on me. The cameras zoom in like vultures. Everyone’s already assuming Scott will pick me in the coupling ceremony. And ten minutes ago, I would have believed it too…except for the way Valerie’s smile looks more than friendly. Like she already knows exactly how this night is going to end.
I can’t look away from them—his tall frame still radiating that quiet, lethal dominance, Valerie glowing beside him like she belongs there. The same man Emily swore gave up everything for me once.
Chapter Fifteen
Day 5 (evening)
* * *
Scott
* * *
The terrace smells like jasmine and citronella, and someone else’s idea of romance.
String lights loop overhead, warm and deliberate. Two chairs are pulled close together at a small table. Close enough that knees would touch if one of us lean in. A bottle of wine already open, already breathing. Candles in glass votives, flames barely moving in the still evening air. A producer walked me through it forty minutes ago with the enthusiasm of someone staging a listing. The crew will be just off camera. Try to enjoy yourselves. This is your moment.
My moment…right. Like I wanted this moment with someone that wasn’t with Lyla to begin with.
I sit, taking in the view. The ocean slowly going dark as the last of the sun dissolves and disappears into the horizon. A reminder to myself that I only have five days left. Five days left until real life comes knocking. A life where none of this exists and the only thing that matters is whether Lyla will let me in. And once money isn’t hanging over her head anymore, she’ll no doubt try to get as far away from me as possible.
Right now, this date isn’t helping.
Valerie arrives moments later. She’s made an effort. Her hair is down, resting on exposed shoulders as she wears a yellow dress that catches the light when she moves. She smiles when she sees me, and it’s a real smile—wide, a little nervous, the kind of smile that says this moment means something to her. That’s the part that makes this harder. She isn’t performing.
“You clean up well,” she says, settling into the chair across from me.
“You, too.”
She laughs, reaching for the wine and pouring us both a glass without asking. I register it the way I register everything—noted, filed, and nothing of consequence.
Somewhere behind her head, a camera shifts.
Valerie seems like a sweet girl, easy to talk to. She’s funny when she’s not trying to be, quick with an opinion, doesn’t fill silence with noise just to fill it. The right guy would be lucky to be sitting where I am. That’s just not me.
My heart belongs to Lyla, and that’s not going to change.
She asks about my work. Security, I tell her. Private sector now, Marines before that. I leave out my complicated past. She then asks what made me leave the Corps, and I give her the honest version but keep it short and sweet. Her questions then become mundane like what I do on days off. I choose a simple response.
“Fishing,” I say. “If I can get to Grapevine Lake.”
“I didn’t picture you as patient enough for fishing.”
“Most people don’t.” I turn my glass once. “It’s not about the fish.”
She leans in slightly, elbows on the table and her head resting on her hands. “What’s it about then?”
“Quiet.”
Before she can respond, the food comes. Grilled fish, rice, and sliced mango—someone put actual thought into it.
