His gorgeous eyes smoldered. “Let’s play.”
I grabbed my favorite cue and let him break. He called solids, and sank two balls. He missed the third shot. I surveyed the table, planning out what I would do first.
He came up behind me, and every nerve ending in my body stood at attention. “Let me show you.”
Let him show me? I had just watched him play. I could have beat him blindfolded and with one hand behind my back. But before I could tell him as much, he had put his arms on top of mine, positioning them with the cue. He was so solid behind me, so strong. So tall. My blood pounded hard in my veins, making me go blurry-eyed for a second. I swallowed. “Shoot here.” Then his hands traveled down to my hips, turning them slightly. “Stand like this.”
“Okay, I’ve got it.” My voice sounded ever so slightly panicked. He didn’t move, and his breath caressed the back of my neck. My weak and apparently too-sensitive knees started to tremble. “I know you think you’re helping, but you’re not.”
“I don’t think I’m helping,” he said in that soft, seductive voice of his. His lips were right next to my neck, and I actually felt his words on my bare skin. My mouth went dry. The group of rabid squirrels inside me liked this as much as I did, and they went crazy.
“You can move now,” I tried. Ten more seconds of this and I would have to hit him with my cue or else embarrass us both. He finally moved, and I was finally able to breathe again. “Eleven ball, corner pocket.”
The adrenaline rushing through me helped me to go quickly from one shot to the next, until there was only the eight ball left. I had an easy shot. I was going to win.
But did I want to?
I looked up at him and said, “Eight ball. Side pocket.” Eyes still on him, I sank the shot.
“I know we can’t kiss, but part of me was hoping you’d miss,” he confessed, leaning on the side of the table.
Part of me had hoped for it too.
His phone buzzed. “My taxi is here. I’ll see you back in California tomorrow.”
He put the cue away. I thought he might kiss me good-bye on the cheek, but he walked over to the door instead. He halted and looked back at me. “I know you won, but will you consider it anyway?”
I already was.
I arrived back in California, tired and more confused than ever. I’d tried to call Sterling three times after Dante left, but there had been no answer. Which both worried and frustrated me. He was supposed to be working. If he was working, why didn’t he answer?
The crew didn’t give me much time to get unpacked and get ready for another elimination ceremony. As I’d predicted, Michelle was let go. She collapsed into a heap on the floor, hysterically sobbing. Everyone in the room who was not behind a camera tried to comfort her. She kept swinging her arms out and saying, “No! Leave me alone! I wanted to be a princess! A real princess!”
Finally she calmed down enough that she could be helped out to the waiting limo. The assistants packed her things during her meltdown. I felt so sad for her, and I said a little prayer that she would find the man she was meant to be with.
Abigail had stolen Dante to talk to him, and I figured it was better for me to not know where they were so that I didn’t start hitting her over the head with those silicone chicken cutlets she kept stuffed in her bra.
I actually wanted to get some sleep, but a PA stopped me to let me know that I would be heading out first thing in the morning to visit Dante’s family. He usually had me go last, and I wasn’t sure what made him change the order, but there wasn’t much I could do about it other than get a good night’s rest.
Bright and early the next morning, after saying good-bye to a sleepy Genesis, I was on the show’s private plane with my MSJ crew (Mike, Steve, and John). They still wouldn’t talk to me, and they never said anything about what was happening. They only filmed it. So I looked out the window and wished for my phone, and I felt giddy and excited about being in Monterra again.
I missed Dante’s family. And I really missed seeing Kat. It was weird to go from living with someone and seeing her every single day for years to just visiting.