I curl my dark hair into loose waves. I dress in my favorite jeans and a comfortable shirt.
And then I head down to the lobby to wait for my ride.
I read his text again. I study it and pick it apart.
Thanks for the best weekend of my life.
It was the best weekend of my life, too.
Neither of us is in a position to make this work right now, but there may come a time when we will be.
What is he doing that he can’t make it work now? I try to think back through our conversations, and all I can come up with is the fact that he has abandonment issues and doesn’t want to get close to anybody. He was awfully agreeable when I told him I couldn’t do this now, that I wasn’t looking for anything more than a fun weekend.
But he also seems to understand that maybe we could make this work once I’m done with my upcoming obligations. The last line of his text proves that more than anything: I’ll hold our memories of this weekend close until that time comes.
In the note I left him, I told him that someday down the line he could use my number. He used it immediately.
Does that mean he wants to give this a real try in the real world, outside of our LA la-la-land?
This would be so different if I wasn’t on my way to a house where I’m going to need to hand my phone over the second I get there. I won’t be able to get back in touch with him until this competition is over...and who knows how long that could be. Even when it’s over, I may find myself with new obligations that will get in the way of cultivating a new relationship.
Some ships pass in the night, and that’s all they get.
I just have to keep reminding myself that it’s better to have experienced what we did this weekend and feel this grief than to never have had that chance with him.
My contract stipulates that if I’m one of the first five kicked off, I can go home and come back for the finale event. If I’m in the final five, I’ll need to remain in Los Angeles through the end of August when filming wraps. Either way, I’ll be in Los Angeles at the end of August. With that in mind, I type out a reply. I stare at it a while before I send it, because I’m really not sure if I can make this work. But I’ll find a way.
Me: If you’re in Los Angeles the first weekend of September, meet me at the lobby bar on Friday night at eight. That’ll be our second chance.
I blow out a breath, and then I spot the same car that dropped me at the hotel as my driver, Tony, gets out of the driver’s seat and stands by his door waiting for me.
That’s my signal.
I rush out to the car, and he tosses my two suitcases in the trunk along with my bass guitar. I slide into the backseat.
I text everyone important to me: my parents along with my three closest friends, Danny, Sam, and Andy. I let them know I’m loving LA and that I’m turning off my phone for the next month. I send them the emergency number from the contract in case anyone needs to get in touch, and I let them know I love them.
And then I power down my phone.
I stare out the window as I try to get into the right headspace.
It’s game time.
CHAPTER 20: LEXI
I stand at the front door to a beautiful house right on the beach, my heart thumping in my chest and my two suitcases behind me. My bass guitar in the case slung over my shoulder is like a security blanket. It’s the reason I’m here. Someone thought I was good enough—deserving enough—to be here, and so I am.
I can do this.
I raise my hand to knock, and the door opens before my hand meets the cool steel of the front door.
“Lexi!” a cute and spunky woman exclaims. “Welcome. I’m Kat, one of the assistant producers, and I’ll be your go-to gal for the next month.”
I breathe a sigh of relief that there’s at least one woman here I’ll be able to talk to...even if she works for the show and I don’t know her motives.
I try to look past her into the house, but all I see are the backs of a bunch of guys from where I stand.
“Come on in, and before you meet the other contestants, I have a few things to fill you in on.” She opens the door a little wider, and some guy comes and grabs my suitcases. She starts walking up the stairs, beckoning me with her hand, and I follow.
“We’ll start with sleeping accommodations. There are six bedrooms, ten contestants. You’re the eighth to arrive. You’ll have to share at least until someone is sent home. Check out all the bedrooms, and pick one that doesn’t have a taken tag on the bed.” She gestures for me to go first, and I peek in the rooms until I find one. I take the first open bed I find, and Kat sits on it. She checks a clipboard and starts rattling off all sorts of information about interviews and confessionals and food and I’m both overwhelmed and confused and nothing has even gotten underway yet.
She finally appears to get to the end of her checklist. “I know that was a ton of information, but one of the four assistant producers will always be on hand if you have questions. We’re actually renting the house next door, so we’re always close by if you need anything. Are you ready to meet the other contestants and your housemates?”
I nod, my eyes wide and my heart hammering. Am I ready? No, not really. But it’s time.
I follow Kat down the stairs, across the hallway, and into the family room. All the other contestants who stand in the room are men, and they’re all involved in conversations.
All attractive men, not that it matters.
My eyes catch on one man’s back. Broad shoulders that remind me of a muscled, naked back as I scratched my nails down it. Thick hair that reminds me of hair I ran my fingers through over the weekend.
God, what if it was him? In my wildest dreams, I couldn’t even imagine.
I feel someone looking at me, and my eyes edge over to a man involved in conversation with the guy who has sexy shoulders. Eyes meet mine from across the room, and I recognize them. They’re dark and a little mysterious as they gaze across the room at me.
Or maybe he’s looking at Kat, who’s still by my side.
These eyes belong to Tyler Caldwell, bassist for Capital Kingsmen. What the heck is he doing here? Capital Kingsmen is famous in their own right. Why would he possibly be competing for a position in MFB?
He’s certainly attractive, but my state of mind isn’t really one that would allow me to go there. Not after Gage, and not when I have to be focused on this competition.
“We have a new arrival!” Kat yells to the group.
Conversations stop, and those not facing me turn around.
I smile timidly as everyone’s attention turns to me.
Tyler smiles, and I keep my gaze there for a beat if for no other reason than he seems like a friendly face. I don’t know if he’s flirting, or if he’s just a nice guy...but either way, he’s got the kind of look like he can be an ally. A friend. A hot friend.
I glance through the six other men waiting there, and it’s when my eyes get to the very last one—Mr. Broad Shoulders—that I gasp.
My heart races and my knees start to shake as our eyes meet.
His widen in the same sort of shock that’s blazing through me.
They smolder.
They burn.
They look at me like he’s seen me naked before...because he has. They look at me like they want to see me that way again.
He knows my body better after the weekend we just shared than maybe any man ever. And he certainly knows what to do with it.