Because something has shifted.
Being seen—really seen and heard—has a way of changing your perspective on things. And now that I know what it feels like, this place feels colder than it ever has before.
I don’t know exactly what comes next.
I just know that the life waiting for me outside these gray walls suddenly feels closer than it ever has. Even if the next stepisn’t starting my own bakery, my time atElite Connectionsis coming to an end.
And that scares me almost as much as it excites me.
CHAPTER 16: ALEX
It’s only ten a.m., and the sand is already too hot.
I shift my weight, adjusting the mic pack clipped to the back of my shorts as I stare out across the ocean, arms crossed. Camera operators jog past me with lenses lifted, like we’re filming the climax of an action movie instead of a glorified reality show beach day.
When production stormed the house this morning and announced we needed a change of scenery and some good, old-fashioned team building, I didn’t realize that meant stripping us down to swimwear and forcing enthusiasm under a cloudless sky.
I should’ve known better. That one’s on me.
The sky is an obnoxious shade of blue that feels unnatural for real life. Seagulls shriek overhead. A production assistant flits between us, chirping about the importance of sunscreen and hydration.
I scrub a hand down my face—I’d rather be anywhere else.
Anywheresheis.
The thought catches me off-guard, but damn. I miss her.
Taylor would’ve rolled her eyes at the cameras circling us but run straight for the water anyway, daring me to follow. She would’ve splashed me first. Laughed when I pretended to be annoyed. She would’ve turned this into something almost fun without even trying.
Instead, she’s hours away, burning the candle at both ends for another week in this circus of a show.
The other night replays in my mind without permission—the heat of her pressed against me, the soft give of her body beneath my hands, the way she melted into my touch like she’s never wanted anything else. My jaw tightens. I exhale a slow breath through my nose.
I chew the inside of my cheek, wondering what she would’ve worn today.
Would she be bold about it like Lila—wearing something small and bright that clings in all the right places, pretending not to notice the way every head turns. The thought sparks something ugly and possessive in my chest.
But fuck, I’d give damn near anything to see my girl in something like that.
Or maybe she’d go softer, like RaeAnn, in something vintage. Something that makes her look sweet until you get close enough to realize there’s more lurking below.
I’d probably lose my mind watching her tuck her hair behind her ear and look up at me through dark lashes like she doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing to me.
Or maybe she’d be more like Diane, keeping it simple. Black. Clean lines. Understated. The kind of suit that wouldn’t scream for attention—wouldn’t need to—because she’d own every inch of it just by being herself.
My hands curl at my sides. It’s a fucking crime I don’t get to know what she would’ve chosen, since she isn’t here at the beach with us. With me.
A speaker crackles to life, a thumping beat vibrating the sand at our feet. Someone whoops. Within minutes, the beach transforms from a cliché TV set into a lively party.
Diane slathers sunscreen over her shoulders, walking along the water’s edge. Lila poses for a drone shot like she’s done this before.
Who am I kidding? She probably has.
Brandon immediately recruits Joe and Julian from the sidelines to toss a football around. A bright red cooler appears. Then another.
“We deserve this,” RaeAnn laughs, cracking open a seltzer before settling into one of the beach chairs set up for our group.
I stay rooted in place, watching everyone around me as the warm sun and chilled alcohol dissolve whatever lingering tension remained from the competition.
