Throb(68)

“I’m afraid returning to reality is going to change things between us.” My voice is low and I can’t hide the crack of worry that shadows my words.

“Are you returning to reality or about to leave it?”



Our first day back starts with one of Miles’s production meetings in the conference room we’ve met in dozens of times before. I take a deep breath as I cross the threshold into the brightly lit room, my eyes combing over the full cast of characters already mingling. With Ava sent home before hiatus, I’ll likely be keeping to myself a lot over the next two weeks.

Flynn is in the far corner of the room, chatting with Jessica. She’s leaning toward him, her hand pressed to his chest, fluttering her long thick eyelashes. He spots me the minute I enter and smiles, quickly excusing himself from the conversation.

Jessica turns to find the distraction that has lured Flynn’s attention away, and our eyes meet. If looks could kill.

“There you are.” Flynn kisses me on the cheek. “I was starting to wonder if you were coming back.” That makes two of us.

“I think some people might be happy if I didn’t.” I smile and discreetly tilt my head in Jessica’s direction.

“Well, certainly not me.” He takes both my hands and pulls back to look at me. “You look incredible. I guess you got to relax a bit on the break finally.”

“Umm. Yes. How was your break?” Feeling guilty already, I change the subject.

“Good. Except …” He leans in to whisper in my ear. “I missed you like crazy.”

“All right everyone, let’s get started,” Miles’s booming voice saves me from having to respond.

Everyone takes a seat around the table. Flynn chooses the seat next to me. So, naturally, Jessica saunters over and grabs the seat on the other side of him.

Miles steeples his fingers as he begins to speak in the front of the room, reminding me of Mr. Burns from the Simpsons. I study his face while he speaks, looking for signs of Cooper in his profile and mannerisms. He’s nice looking, physically fit, there’s definitely a physical resemblance. But it’s the way he commands authority that is vastly different. His is through intimidation and fear, whereas people seem to defer to Cooper out of respect and admiration.

After a fifteen-minute lecture, Miles walks around the room, distributing two-inch-thick packets containing information on our shooting schedule for the next two weeks. He stops and makes small talk with some of the contestants as he hands out the binders.

“What a beautiful tan you have, Kate. It looks like you’ve already spent a week on a tropical island.”

I swallow the water I’m drinking down the wrong pipe and choke. “Umm … thank you.”

“You okay?” he asks, although I don’t find true concern on his face. Instead I could swear I see something sinister in his eyes. Here comes the paranoia I’d forgotten all about.

“You okay?” Flynn asks, with something different in his eyes than Miles—sincerity.

“I’m fine,” I wheeze, my eyes watering. Miles has already moved on and is busy talking to Jessica’s cleavage.

“If you need mouth-to-mouth, I got you covered,” Flynn whispers, adding a smile that reveals his killer dimples.

His playfulness, along with his flirtatious charm, actually puts me at ease a little bit. Flynn and I spend the next two hours alternating between playing tic-tac-toe and hangman as Miles spews his vision for the next segment of the show. I seriously could have summed up the two-hour lecture in less than thirty seconds. Flaunt it if you got it, kiss the bachelor frequently with lots of tongue, and the camera loves catfights.

We break for lunch and, surprisingly, I feel a lot better than when I came in this morning. I’d forgotten how at ease I feel around Flynn. He’s a great guy, he really is. If I weren’t crazy about Cooper, a relationship with Flynn wouldn’t be such a stretch. Even though he’s pretty much the polar opposite of Cooper. He’s free spirited and easygoing, where Cooper is intense and driven. Even his look is everything Cooper isn’t—tattooed, long hair, tattered jeans and tall and lanky. Couple the whole package with a voice that can make women from seven to seventy swoon, and it’s no wonder the women vie so heavily for time alone with the bachelor.

“Wanna grab a bite?” Flynn asks close behind me as I exit the door.

“Sure, but there’ll probably be a tack on my seat when I get back, courtesy of our castmates.”

“No worries. I’d be happy to sweep the seat to protect your delicate ass from damage.”



The afternoon session is even more painful than the morning. Miles spends the entire time coaching us on “how to seduce the camera.” Halfway through, Flynn and I decided we should start a little drinking game—where every time Miles says the word “intimate,” we’d drink. I stopped counting at sixteen, figuring I’d have alcohol poisoning by then anyway.