Luckily, the man sitting next to Nina is not Henry Cavill, but he’s still uncomfortably handsome. He’s got dark, tousled hair that looks like an angel just ran her fingers through it, a jaw so strong it could chip ice, and eyes so dark ... okay, I’m running out of metaphors, but his eyes are all dark and smoldering, but also softened by the crinkles around the corners. And he’s smiling at Nina like she’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.
I don’t like it.
I don’t like it at all.
I mean, listen, she’s single. I’m single. We can’t be together. I know that. But at the same time, I don’t want any guy to ever look at her or talk to her again. And I don’t think that’s too much to ask, is it?
No.No, Wesley. It’s fine. It’s fine! I’m fine. I’m here to woo the shit out of Harmony, and if Nina wants to flirt with some handsome extra, then that is A-OK with me. I find it a little strange that she’s not back at the wardrobe department, doing wardrobe things. I mean, I thought that was her job. She’s only been working there for, like, a week, and she’s already blowing it off to sit at a table with an extremely handsome man? That doesn’t sound like my Nina. Mine, as in, my person that I know, notminemine. She belongs to herself. Not to me. And not tothisguy, either, whoever the hell he is. Probably a model. Or a serial killer. Or both.
I realize that at the angle I’m standing at, I can’t quite make out what’s going on with his hands. Hers are clasped on the table, but his are nowhere to be seen. I start to run through all kinds of horrible scenarios of where his hands might be. I mean, nothing crazy, they’re in a public place in broad daylight being recorded for television, for goodness’ sake. I’m not out of my mind. But what if he’s, like, touching her knee, or something?
Trying to angle my head just right while also trying not to make it super obvious what I’m doing, I must miscalculate how close the glass is to my face, because the next thing I know I’m feeling a sharp pain, hearing a THUD,and losing my balance, falling to my ass on the ground.
Huh. Dazed, I shake my head. Maybe no one saw that?
The collective gasp from the locals who are watching the filming puts that thought immediately to rest. Sheepishly, I rub my head. Maybe no oneinsidesaw that?
But when I look up, I see everyone staring back at me—the extras at the tables, the workers in the shop, the pretty lady with the purple eyes. Harmony. The extremely handsome man. And, yes, Nina.
Well . . . shit.
Chapter 24
Nina
“Poor fella,” Grady says, watching with a sympathetic wince on his face as several people from the production crew surround Wes to make sure his head is all right.
I had my back to the glass-smacking incident and didn’t see what happened, but I heard the thunk. It was a loud thunk. I’m actually not sure how Wes managed to hit his head? Did he walk into the window, or something? The glassisextremely clean. Or it was, before he left an imprint of his cheek on it.
I don’t have long to ponder the thought, though, since Harmony clocks what happened and rushes outside. “Nate!” The door closes, so I can’t fully make out what she’s saying, but I see her squat down in front of Wes. She coos and touches his forehead, brushing back his hair, and he laughs winsomely.
I tell myself to look away. Iwantto look away. But it’s like when you accidentally type in a weird word combo and you pull up a GIF you werenotexpecting, one of the NSFW variety. And you want to stop looking, but you’re also trying to figure out exactly what it is you’re looking at, and even though some part of you knows it’s going to scar your delicate psyche, maybe forever, you stare for just a second or two too long.
That’s how this feels. I watch on in soundless horror as Harmony leans in and presses her lips to Wes’s temple. His eyes dart up to mine.
I turn so my back is fully toward them, my heart racing. “Poor guy,” I echo unconvincingly, my heart in my throat.
When Lyle asked Grady and me to be extras on a date, I obviously realized there was a chance that it might be a date that Wes was on, but I figured, what were the odds? Harmony was one of four Mountainettes, and each of them still had six contestants, so with all those variables in place, what was the likelihood that the one date I’d end up on would be with Wes ... ? And, okay, this is starting to sound like a really weird SAT question, but the point is, I’d like to go home now, please.
Only, Harmony will think it’s extremely strange if I suddenly leave. She was so excited when she saw me sitting here in the bakery earlier. “Nina!” she’d squealed. “Here for moral support. Oh, I love you! Thank you! Thank you!” Leaning in close, she’d whispered conspiratorially, “Confidential bestie-cousin secret? I think the guy I chose for this date is my front-runner.”
Harmony is the kind of person who thinks she’s in love every time she talks to a new guy, but I knew she must really like whoever this contestant was since she didn’t even seem to clock Grady sitting with me at the table. And normally, Harmony would notice. There’s more than one reason I’ve kept Grady away from my family, and part of it definitely has to do with the potential awkwardness of my cousin deciding she’s in love with him at first sight.
Not only is Grady handsome, but he also sings and plays guitar, which has always been Harmony’s kryptonite. Luckily—or so I’d thought at the time—she seemed too distracted by her impending date to take any notice of Grady, so I thought I’d just be able to catch up with my friend in peace, no awkwardness involved.
Stupid, naive Nina of five minutes ago. How little you knew about life.
“Everything all right?” Grady asks, pulling me back into the moment.
I look down to see I’ve torn the paper napkin in front of me into nervous shreds.
“Good. Fine. Great!” In hindsight, it might’ve been more convincing if I hadn’t said those three words right on top of each other.
Maybe I’ll get lucky. Maybe Wes will be concussed or something, and the date will be canceled. At the thought, I immediately feel bad, because I don’t want him to be seriously injured ... but how serious is a concussion, anyway? Just a really mild one, preferably?
“All right, people,” Lyle calls out. “They’re about to come inside and start filming. I know it’s going to be really difficult not to watch what’s going on, but try to pretend like it’s just a normal day and you’re unaware of the cameras.”
So the date is going to proceed. That’s good, because it means Wes doesn’t have a serious head injury. I’m already repenting that I wished that on him at all. Because it’s fine! We can’t be together, and he has a job he needs to do, and I can’t betray my family. So. It’s fine. I’ll focus my attention on Grady and pretend nothing is happening behind me.
