“Sure, I’ll uhmm… meet you in the room.”
She waited until he left. “Start from the beginning.”
“With what?”
“With this.” She waved a hand at my face, her bracelets jangling, her smile soft and encouraging.
“I’m just drinking my hot chocolate and minding my own business.” I smiled to take the edge off the statement, and she leaned forward and patted my knee.
“Well, I’m the kind of person who doesn’t leave their new friend staring into hot chocolate as if he’s thinking of diving in.”
Friend? She thinks I’m her friend. Am I? Jesus this is pathetic. I need a hug from Brody.
“I wouldn’t fit in the mug,” I deadpanned, but I didn’t cut the conversation dead.
“Is Brody okay? Are you okay? Are you and Brody okay together?” she asked all three questions as one, and some of it was easy, but the last bit was hard. Of course, we were okay together. We laughed and made love and smiled all the time.
“How did you know when you were in love with Ivan?” I blurted because it was the only way I could think of forming the question without using mine and Brody’s names.
She settled back into the sofa, and we waited for the staff member to drop off the hot chocolate. There were two on the tray, so I took Ivan’s and hoped he didn’t resent me for stealing his drink and the time with his girlfriend.
“It happened quickly, one moment I was gushing over how wonderful his baking was, the next we were in the closet, literally inside with the buckets and this big ass ladder. We went from zero to sixty in minutes and then from dating to being in love just as quick.”
“How did you know you were in love?” Could I sound any more stupid?
“I used to watch him when he slept, and he would be smiling, and I wanted to share his dreams. He’d bake something, and I’d want to cover him in fudge and lick it off. He’d hug me, and I would feel immediately as if we were the last two people in the world. There are moments when he tells me his dreams, finds a pot of fudge body paint, and then tells me that I was the only person in his heart. We fit. That’s love for me.”
“When you told him, did you ever imagine he might tell you he felt nothing for you?”
I assumed everyone else in the world knew exactly what love was and had no trouble expressing their feelings, but she surprised me.
“I was petrified,” she admitted. “What if he told me I was delusional? Or laughed at me? But I laid it all out there, opening up myself and offering my heart to him, and it was the bravest most terrifying thing I’d ever done. Love is like that you know, a roller coaster ride of ups and downs along with brutal honesty and overwhelming trust.”
“What if I tell Brody how I feel, and he sees right through it? It’s only been a few weeks but the way I want to be with him, this breath-stealing fear, it’s too much. Do I just desperately need a friend after all this time? I’m confused.”
“Oh, Justin.” She poked my arm. “Anyone with half a brain can see that Brody is falling for you, it’s destiny you know. Anyway, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“I could lose a friend,” I whispered.
“And if you don’t tell him what you’re feeling, then you might lose the chance to find your one true love.” She air-quoted that last bit and then made a heart with her hands. “The way I see it, you can tell him you want to see him after the show, suggest a date, take it slow, give it time, or you can go up to him and tell him that you think you’re falling in love and see what he says.”
I walked Kristen to her room, and we hugged goodnight, then I waited until she was inside and shook Ivan’s hand. We exchanged pleasantries and then it was time for me to go back to the room. She was right. I didn’t have to go in and tell him I loved him, or that I was falling in love with him, I could calmly suggest a couple of dates, a catch up, see what this thing we had could be. By the time I’d reached the suite, I’d convinced myself that this was the right course of action, and I let myself in quietly, undressing and going to the bed. Brody hadn’t moved, and he was still smiling, and I wanted to be inside that dream so badly. I needed to wake him up, tell him I wanted a date, and I shook him a little.
He opened his eyes slowly, and the smile remained. “Hey, you okay?” he said sleepily.
How about we date and try this thing out, see where it goes? I was struck dumb, and even though the words were there, they refused to happen.
“Justin?” His smile dropped, and he propped himself up on his elbows. “What’s wrong.”
“I’m falling in love with you,” I blurted without any fancy additional words, and the words hung on the air for a few moments.
He laid down and opened his arms, and I crawled into his embrace. “I love you too,” he whispered and then held me close.
And we slept.
Waking up and being in love was like walking on clouds and not falling through. I couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Brody, and he didn’t stop trying to steal kisses. Neither of us used the L-word, but the touches and the kisses were beautifully perfect, and we hadn’t stopped either since we woke up. Even now, setting up our work areas for the recording of the final we couldn’t stop looking at each other.
“Justin, Brody, can I borrow you for a minute?” Rita called us over.
I gave my work area one last critical look and then followed Brody to where she was standing. She turned and led us to her room and closed the door.
“Sit down.”
I assumed that this was nothing more than a last meeting before the final was filmed, but her expression didn’t look calm or excited, instead she looked worried, and I couldn’t be more wrong about this being a run of the mill discussion.
“Concerns have been raised,” she announced without preamble, but then she paused as if Brody and I were able to fill in the blanks. We exchanged glances, and I’m sure that I looked just as confused as he did.
“About what?” Brody finally said when the pause was uncomfortably long.
She turned her iPad, revealing a photo of me and Brody kissing on the path down by Jeremy. I actually thought it was a very beautiful shot, and it made me happy to see it. Only Rita didn’t seem pleased.
“Accusations have been made that you sabotaged your own refrigerator to have Clare removed from the show and that Brody assisted you because you have coerced him in a, and I quote, lover’s revenge pact.”
“The hell?” My reaction was short.
“The only person that would allege that is Clare,” Brody jumped in.
“Why are you showing us this photo?”
She wouldn’t meet my eyes, and it was easy to put two and two together. “It gives credence to the whole accusation, and we’ve dealt with the accusation, but the optics for viewers isn’t good.”
Brody cursed. “Now hang on a minute—you wanted Justin and me to flirt!”
“All we’re asking is that in the final you cool your flirtation so that the optics for your demographic are stable. There’s no point in a flirtation if you’re in a relationship.”
I was speechless at first but Brody appeared to have a handle on it all. He stood up, tugged me with him, and opened the door.