“Is it?” Blake replies softly, stepping closer as Paxton winds the rope around both of their torsos, binding them together.
“Oh, yes,” Pax says, holding the ends of the rope up with one hand and lifting his eyes to meet Blake’s.
Gulp,is the only word that comes to Blake’s mind. The patch of grass their platform is on sits directly under a large palm frond waving overhead. There’s a soft breeze, the day is warm but not excruciatingly hot, and the ocean can be heard crashing in the background. And yet, all of that pales in comparison, loses its luster and shine, fades easily into the background when competing for attention with the man that’s standing in front of Blake.
If his hands weren’t tied and bound to his chest, Blake would reach out and cup Paxton’s cheek. If his physical wants and needs weren’t equally tied without any rope at all, he’d lean forward and kiss him. As it is, all he can do is stare into Pax’s eyes and let him stare back. It trips Blake up, this kind of intimacy with no expectation, but at the same time, he’s started to get used to it — maybe even crave it. It’s easily as powerful as any off-limits moment they’ve shared, and secretly, Blake issoglad that he stayed.
Maybe not so secretly. Pax seems to get it, anyway. Right now, he leans forward so that their foreheads touch, closing his eyes and leading Blake to follow suit. Blake can’t decide whether to shove down or lean into how safe and secure being wrapped up like this (and with Pax)makes him feel, so he just goes with it.
Their moment is interrupted all too soon by the sound of giggling girls — or more specifically, a cackling redhead. Blake cracks one eye open to find Ariana and Dani working off to theirright, Ariana gleefully winding rope around Dani in a way that looks the exact opposite of what he and Pax have been doing.
“How is this fun?!” Dani squeals from her seat on the platform, delicate wrists bound tight to her ankles.
“I dunno, I’m having a great time,” Ariana replies, fitting the rope in between Dani’s teeth and continuing to twist.
Right,Blake thinks, suppressing a laugh. Things could be worse. He could be Ariana, and Pax could be eyeing up other people. At least that’s not on his list of things to worry about.
_____________________
Another night and another relatively uneventful morning follow. Blake’s starting to get the idea that reality TV is heavily edited to make generally boring lives look fast-paced and interesting.Duh,Ariana says, when Blake shares his theory.
“I wouldn’t know,” Pax replies — he claims he doesn’t watch TV, but Blake’s definitely not buying that.
Their… fifth? — whatever, Blake’s loosing track — day at the Retreat is filled with a solid mix of both partying and random moments of genuine communication and learning about each other, as well as (so far) the entire crew successfully sticking to Ava’s rules. In the early afternoon, they learn there’s another workshop to be had, and Blake finds himself actually looking forward to it.
This time, the gathering place is the patio on the far side of the pool, the spot where they’d been filmed making entrances and official introductions back on day one. Blake starts to get a sinking feeling in his stomach when he looks around and notices that there are no supplies, no instructor, no signs of a “workshop” of any kind. What hedoessee are more crew members than normal, extra cameras for capturing different angles, and several producers chewing their nails while trying to blend into the shrubbery.
Fuck me,Blake thinks. This has all the warning signs of an impending “gotcha” moment — Blake just hopes it’s not for him. He sips from the alcoholic beverage that was placed in his hand by Pax moments earlier, and tries not to worry. After all, he’s been on his best behavior the past day or so, he’s really trying. At the very least, he knows he’s not standing here waiting to be outed for some naughty secret. For once, he didn’t do anything.
After all that, Blake should belesssurprised when an attractive guy, half-naked in tiny swim shorts and an unbuttoned gauzy shirt, comes strolling out from the courtyard. He’s not Blake’s type; too military-ish, with gym-cut muscles, buzzed hair, and a way of holding himself that says “don’t fuck with me” in the nastiest way. Blake likes his men a little less douchey than that, thanks, but the guydoeshave nice eyes.
Well, if he didn’t use them to visibly undress each person he came across, they’d be nice.
Blake’s already got his own blue-eyed angel, though. After greeting the new guy —Colt —as warmly as he canmuster before dropping his grip like it’s hot, Blake turns to Pax, prepared to see if he wants to swim or maybe ask if they can take those paddleboards out again. Word on the street is that there are one-on-one “dates” up for grabs tonight — and Blake has his eye on the prize.
The way he figures it, he and Pax are basically a shoe-in. Sure, they’ve flirted with some rule breaks, but they’ve also put themselves out there and made that “genuine connection,” Ava keeps going on about.
The smile dies on his face, though, when he catches sight of Pax’s. For once, Pax’s eyes aren’t on Blake, they’re glued to the portico Colt just came down through, and Blake’s gaze follows with trepidation. His worst fears are confirmed when he sees the object of Paxton’s fascination; a busty, flowing-haired brunette with a smile on her face thatpositivelyscreams, “Rules? What rules?”
Swallowing heavily, Blake tries not to panic, but it ain’t easy. This chick is pulling out all the stops from the jump — she’s wearing a skimpy black bikini, a white see-through coverup that barely grazes her shoulders, and stilettos. She’s busty, she’s curvy in all the right places, and her hair falls in long, soft waves down over her chest. Those tresses are held back by sunglasses that she pushes up off of her face with a knowing smirk.
Fuck.Blake can’t compete with that, heliterallydoesn’t have the equipment. If that’s what Pax likes —fuck.He’s screwed. The way Blake seethes when the demon in heels wraps seductive arms around Pax’s shoulders — well, he’s pretty surethe producers are popping champagne bottles over his reaction. They got what they wanted with this game, that’s for sure.
The next couple of hours are interesting — if by interesting, that means Blake drinks a lot and sits as stiffly as possible while Colt and Maura flirt with anything with a pulse and Pax’s eyes track Maura everywhere she goes. Eventually, he calls Pax on it, just to say, “Hey man, talk to her if you want,” because fuck, he doesn’t own the guy. But Pax just shakes his head and rips his eyes away, giving Blake a small smile and a pat on his hand.
Which, Blake finds incredibly rude. What is he, Pax’s wife of fifty years that needs to be patronized? Fuck that. Blake Lawrence may be a mess, but he’s nobody’s consolation prize.
So maybe that’s why, when both Colt andMauraare awarded the coveted one-on-one dates (seriously, why didn’t Blake see this coming?),and Maura asks Paxton to come with her, Blake encourages him to go.
To his credit, Paxton looks genuinely surprised and torn, but Blake just doesn’t have the energy to play games. After Ava relays Maura’s invite, he and Pax are left sitting on two of the cushioned lounges next to the pool, everyone else long-dispersed. Blake leans back, covering his face with his arm. The late afternoon sun is tempered by the leaf cover, so Blake’s warm but not sweating. He’s got a drink by his side, the pool in front of him, and dinner is on the horizon. In other circumstances, this would be downright heavenly.
He sighs. He seems to be doing a lot of that lately.
“Pax, this is the experience, or whatever,” he says, knowing that Pax is staring him down, even though he can’t see. “They said ‘make meaningful connections,’ not, ‘glue yourself to the first dude you feel something for besides the urge to bone.’ You know? I ain’t mad.” Truthfully, Blake wishes that were a lie, but it isn’t. Pax has to make his own decisions. If he chooses someone other than Blake, then he was always going to do that eventually. Maybe Blake would just rather know now, before he gets too damn deep into his feelings.
Of course, when he drops his arm and blinks against the light only to find Pax’s beautiful blues looking back at him softly, he knows that stupid ship has sailed. Whatever, so he’s stuck with hoping Pax comes back. He can deal with that.
“Is there someone else you might like to get to know better?” Pax asks carefully, and Blake sits up, shaking both his head and his finger vehemently.
