“Oh no,” he says. “See that? That’s a trap.” He grins, reaching out to cup Pax around the side of his face with his hand before shoving him away playfully. Paxton laughs as he resurfaces.
“I’ll think about it,” Pax finally answers, while looking over at Maura laughing with Vincent in the hot tub. Inwardly, Blake resolves to not feel anything at all aboutthat.
Luckily, they’re saved from having to continue this terrible conversation by the producers sweeping through. Rachel and her cronies interrupt the relative peace by requesting that the entire group convene together on theloveseats and sofa set back from the pool. Blake’s come to think of it as the “Ava Bomb” area, so either someone’s broken the rules, or there’s another “surprise” coming. If it’s the latter, Blake just hopes it’s not as shitty as the last one.
Of small comfort, Pax drags him down into their normal seating arrangement on one of the loveseats and keeps a possessive arm around Blake’s waist while they wait. When he catches Maura staring at them, Blake successfully fights off the urge to stick out his tongue, but only barely.
From her place on the stone coffee table, Ava’s cone chimes. The LED ring around her middle lights up neon green today.
“I have observed a collective growth, and I have a gift for each of you to help you on the next step of your journey.”
“It’s like Christmas!” Ariana declares, as a murmur of hopeful excitement erupts from those gathered.
“Vincent, please open my box.” To a chorus of laughter and lewd jokes that Blake is sure will be edited out, Vincent scoots off of the big couch and picks up a wooden container sitting right next to Ava’s cone.
Blake cranes his neck to see as Vincent flips the box open on a hinge, revealing that inside, there are a bunch of smart watches displayed against red velvet. Everyone gets one, and the producers instruct them to keep the devices on at all times. They’re kind of clunky, not exactly Blake’s style, but he wasnever into that sort of technology, anyway (nor could he afford it).
Better be an upside to this,he thinks, just as Ava begins speaking again.
“When your watch is neutral, the Retreat rules apply,” she says. Some of the girls gasp, but Blake doesn’t quite follow their train of thought, so he stays quiet and waits for someone to spell it out.
“But if it changes…” Matt starts, and Leah quickly chimes in, grabbing his arm with excitement.
“You’ll probably change the color to give us a second to… um, connect?” she volunteers, clearly addressing Ava in an expectant manner. Everyone’s gazes dart to the white cone, as if she’s an actual person. For all Blake knows, she is — it’s probably fucking Rachel back there, running text-to-speech from the control room.
“That is correct,” probably-Rachel-Ava confirms. “When two people form a genuine connection, they’ll be given a green light for a limited amount of time. What you do with that opportunity is up to you.”
“My neck is going to get sore from checking on it,” Amber mutters.
That’s the end of Ava’s declaration. Soon after, the group breaks apart, with Colt, Amber, and Maura heading off to get ready for their dates. Pax stays behind with Blake, and despitethe protective emotional walls he’s quickly throwing up in his own mind, even Blake can see that Pax isn’t sure what the right course of action here is.
“Listen,” Blake tries, unable to believe that he’s giving this dude he has budding feelings for advice on how to date other people, even for one measly dinner. “Just have fun. I swear, I’m not holding it against you. Am I jealous? Fuck yeah. That bitch looks like she wants to peel your skin off and wear it around like a blanket. If she offers you lotion, just know it’s a trap. Also, To Serve Man is a cookbook.”
That gets a smile out of Pax, so Blake continues. “But I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to make friends here. And to be fair, I probably get that skin-blanket look on my face when I see you, too. Especially when you haul yourself out of the pool, all wet and sexy.” Blake pokes Paxton in the stomach and he laughs softly.
“That is a strangely endearing sentiment. You’re a good man, Blake Lawrence,” Paxton says, way too serious, and Blake flushes as he looks away. He chances a glance down at his watch, but no dice.
Once again, their moment is interrupted. Rachel stops by, crouching down and tapping Paxton on the shoulder. “They want you in the confessional before you head to dinner with Maura,” she says, casting a sympathetic glance over at Blake that he truly resents.
As Paxton squeezes his shoulder and heads off, Blake wanders over to the kitchen to find some other dateless loser tohang out with. Inside, it’s just Leah, and she looks particularly pouty. “Where’s Matt?” Blake asks, knowing that the two of them have been getting closer the past couple of days. They acted pretty cozy during that little bondage sesh, anyway, and Leah didn’t seem to so much as look twice at Colt or Maura.
“He’s ‘taking some time to himself,’” Leah relays, with air quotes and a put-upon sigh and eye roll combo. “Which probably means meditating down by the water. I don’t know who he thinks he’s fooling, though. Or why he’s taking it out on me. I’m as pissed off as he is.”
“Heh?” Blake replies, grunting around a giant bite of pizza that he snags from a takeaway box. “‘Bout what? The dates? Who cares, make your own date. At least Matt isn’t off flirting with some other chick. Or dude,” he amends. He leans back against the counter and stuffs half of the slice in his mouth at once.
“No.” Leah shakes her head and spears a forkful of salad. “Not the dates — thesuite. Ariana and Dani — apparently they had some big heart-to-heart earlier and Ava offered them an overnight in the private suite as a reward. Said something about it being the “biggest test of chastity.” She snorts and chews. “Matt’s totally jealous. Said it should have been us, implied I wasn’t ‘connecting’ sincerely enough.” She laughs a little. “So ridiculous, right?”
Blake stares back at her, pizza abruptly forgotten. “Wait — we have aprivate suite?And it’s like, a reward? That you can earn?”
“Yeah,” Leah says slowly, like Blake is stupid. He’s not, just incredulous that he might have lost out on the chance at getting Paxinsaid private suite (to absolutelynotfollow the rules) by sending him off with Hell-on-Stilettos.If those two get a green light…
Fuck his entire life.
“I gotta go,” he says suddenly, abandoning his pizza in the sink and taking off towards the beach, where he knows production has a private table set up for Pax and Maura. Halfway there, Blake slows his roll and forces himself to come to a stop.
“Ugh, what am I doing?” he asks aloud, slapping both palms across his face and wiggling his whole body around in abject frustration. “Arghhh,” he groans, before tearing his hands away and stomping back towards the bedroom where he does not pass go, does not collect $200. He beelines directly for the bed he usually shares with Pax, strips, and crawls under the covers, pulling them up over his head and tucking them in so that he can’t escape.
It feels like days before the bedroom door creaks open again, followed by the sound of a familiar voice. “Blake?” Paxton calls out, and like the lovesick puppy he is, Blake immediately shoves the covers off and sits bolt upright.
