Seventeen
Nate
Iwas unprepared for how awful it was going to feel to watch Becca kiss Preston. She had every right to. She’s dating him, after all. But I still feel like I’ve been punched in the gut, and I can’t wait to be done filming. Olivia and some of the other producers are heading down to the hotel bar, and as good as a drink sounds right now, I just want to be alone. I tell them no thanks and head back to my room, where I shut the door and turn on the television to nothing in particular and then turn it back off again after a while because the noise is intolerable.
It was my job to convince Becca to kiss Preston. She didn’t say anything on the date about Rob, so I’m guessing Levi isn’t going to be happy with me. He’ll probably give up on her and she’ll go home.
I hope Becca isn’t going to be heartbroken. I know I’ve participated in bringing her along this far, but I wonder how real her feelings for Preston have become.
That kiss sure as helllookedreal. And afterward, when she caught me leaving, she looked sohappy. Practically radiant, in fact. I should be pleased—I put a lot of work into making that date as spectacular as possible. I’mgladshe had a good time.That’s what Iwanted.
But I wish it was me she’d been kissing, instead of Preston.
I kick off my jeans, lie back on the bed in just my boxers and t-shirt, and debate whether I should call Jason. It’s a more reasonable hour in California than it is here, and I’d really like to talk to someone about all this. But Jason isn’t exactly the most articulate dude, and he’d probably just tell me this situation sucks and he’s sorry, which I already know and don’t want to hear right now. I don’t think anyone in my family would be particularly helpful, either. I wonder how weird it would be for me to call Jason’s girlfriend Emily and whine to her. She’d be easier to talk to about it, and Emily is my friend, for sure, but I don’t just call up my best friend’s girlfriend—ever. Still, any awkwardness that might cause could be worth it just to—
There’s a knock on my door, and I close my eyes. I really don’t want to deal with anyone else tonight, but if it’s work related, I can’t ignore it. I drag myself up off the bed and answer in my boxers, hoping to convince whoever it is that they woke me up and should go the hell away.
I crack the door open, and it takes me a second to process what I’m seeing.
Becca is standing there, wearing a white zip-up hoodie and some yoga pants, looking at me with a nervous expression.
“Hey—” I say, and I’ve barely got the word out before she’s ducking under my arm and inside the room, then pressing her back to the door, shutting it again.
Oh my god. Becca is in my hotel room, and I’m not wearing pants. I’ve still got my hand on the door frame, which means I’m leaning way too close and—
I step back toward the bed, staring at her. “Becca, hey,” I say, trying not to act as thrown off by this as I am. Is she here to tell me more about her date? More likely, she wants to talk off-camera about her time withThea.
“Hey, was that really okay, what happened withThea today?” I ask. She thanked me earlier, so I thought so, but I still blindsided her with all that. Probably, I should have handled that better, and—
“Yeah,” Becca says. “That was fine.Betterthan fine, it was a really great . . .” She shakes her head, like she’s clearing it. “Thank you for doing that, but I’m not here to talk about the kids.”
“Okay.”That was a much safer topic than her date with Preston, which I definitely don’t want to—
“I have feelings for you,” Becca blurts out. “Strong feelings. All the strong feelings.”
I blink at her, wondering if I did, in fact, fall asleep or am somehow hallucinating this. Did she seriously just say that?
“And I came here to ask if maybe you have feelings for me too,” she continues, “and if you do, to ask if you wanted to see where this could go.”
She wants to—
“Really?” I say. It comes out hoarse, because I’m still adjusting to the idea that Becca, who was just kissing Prince fucking Charming, is here askingmeif I want to—
“It’s okay if you don’t, of course,” she says, squirming. “Have feelings for me, I mean. I know you were just doing your job, and I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, I have feelings for you,” I say, and she looks about as stunned as I probably do right now. “Strong feelings,” I add. “All the strong feelings.”
Becca smiles tentatively. “Really?”
She sounds so hopeful, and I want to close the distance between us and put my arms around her and tell her that of course I do. She’s so wonderful and perfect, how could I not?
Can I do that? Is she saying I can do that?
“Yeah, really.” I incline my head toward the bed. “You want to sit down?”
She takes a seat on the edge of my bed. I debate whether I should put on some damn pants before I join her, but it’s not like my boxers are super revealing, and I don’t want her to read it as a sign of discomfort.
So I sit next to her and hope I don’t soon need to put a pillow on my lap to stay decent.
