It’s like he’s repeating my own words back to me. And it does calm me down, strengthens my resolve.
This ismyshow. This is my life.
“Do you?” I ask. While I’m on a roll, I might as well double-check that I don’t need to shut anything down with Ashton. He’s rich and good-looking, and I’m sure there’s more to him than meets the eye, but it will be difficult enough for me to open up to these men to show my true self. I don’t want to have to coax anyone else into doing the same thing.
Not even Spencer.
“Want you?’ Ashton lifts an eyebrow. “What’s the point when you say you’re not picking me at the end?”
I feel bad about that. I’ve never got the sense that Ashton was interested in me more the publicity I could bring him.
That we could bring to each other.
“I don’t think you really want to end up with me,” I say as cautiously as if I’m picking gravel out of road rash because if I’ve read Ashton wrong, this might hurt.
Ashton shrugs. “You sound worried. Are you already regretting friend-zoning me?”
“Honestly, no. I think we’d be good, but it would blow up so fast and so spectacularly and we’d get a lot of publicity about it and that would be good for the show. But this is my life, so no. But I will keep you around.”
“Because I’m such a charming and devastatingly handsome person?”
“No, no and no. I guess you are a person, so only two nos this time.”
Ashton slings an arm around me. “Are we supposed to kiss now?”
“And another no. You know, I think thatismy favourite word when it comes to you.”
Laughing, I let Ashton lead me back to the others. I can’t help myself and give a sideways glance to where Spencer had been lurking.
He’s gone.
But he’s still here.
17
Spencer
L
astnightdidnotgo as planned.
Not that I had much of a plan, it turned out.
I’m regretting being so impulsive. There should be no question if I want to be with Lyra. I should have had all that figured out before I set foot on Saint Pierre.
It’s not fair to Lyra, and I feel bad about that.
But in my defense, time was of the essence, so I’ll have to work fast to discover what I want. Lots of self-reflection, internal monologues, and second-guessing myself before I find my true self and what will make me happy.
That’s what would happen in a romance novel, according to my sister Stella. I managed a quick call to her before I got here, and like always, she wasn’t the most positive about the situation.
Today, I’m not feeling that positive about it either and while a lot of that has to do with my conversation with Lyra last night, some of it is the fact that I woke up to a roommate this morning.
It’s been years since I’ve shared a room, and I don’t have great memories of the arrangement.
I was asleep before my roommate returned last night, one of the lucky ones who was on the group date with Lyra. It’s not untilI wake up that I get my first sight of the red-haired man as he pulls a shirt over his head.
It takes a minute before I can come up with a name. Rand. “Hey,” I mutter sleepily.
