by Laura Burton
Ronan makes a noise of acknowledgment as we find a seat at the main table. We have the hall to ourselves, and it’s a nice relief to be without cameras and spotlights in my face for once.
“Well, I think the awkwardness ship sailed a long time ago, don’t you?” Ronan says squinting up at the ceiling as he chews his food. “And I know more about you than I do about my colleagues.”
It’s takes me several minutes to realise I’m gazing at him, watching as he demolishes half of the food on his plate within record time.
“Tell me about the prize money,” I blurt out without thinking. Ronan coughs and swallows as I take a bite of a sausage.
“What about it?” he asks carefully. His eyes look guarded now and there’s a shift in his body language. What is he hiding?
“Are you in some kind of trouble? You don’t have a gambling problem, do you?”
Ronan ruffles his hair and I resist the urge to do the same.
“No,” he says. “It’s personal.”
Interesting. So, he’s okay with telling the world about his sister, but he can’t tell me why he needs the prize money so much.
“Okay,” I say with a shrug. “Keep your secrets.”
Ronan beams at me, his eyes bright again, and he leans in. My spoonful of mashed potato hovers in the air with my hand frozen while Ronan puckers his lips and his breath tickles mine.
“Did I mention how pretty you are?” he says in a silky voice. I blink nervously. If he comes any closer, his beard will be full of mash. A wave of giddiness washes over me and I giggle.
“No, you haven’t,” I say with a smirk. “But carry on.” I stuff the spoon of mash into my mouth and give him a mischievous grin. Ronan guffaws and brushes my hair away from my shoulder.
“Well, you are. You have the most tantalising eyes I’ve ever seen and those rosebud lips…”
I think I’m melting now. I smile at him, drunken on his compliments. Then a thought hits me.
“Wait a second,” I say with suspicion. Ronan’s smile falters. “What is it?”
Ronan sits back, and his brows disappear into his hair.
“What?”
I fold my arms and survey his innocent face.
“I know this trick. You want something.”
Ronan shovels more food into his mouth, probably to buy him some time.
“Can’t a boyfriend tell his girlfriend how hot she is?” he asks in a higher-than-normal voice. I press my lips together and sigh. Maybe that comment would fly if we were boyfriend and girlfriend. But we’re not. Ronan glances around the room to check we are still alone and then his shoulders fall.
“Fine, I need a favour,” he whispers. I drop my hands and cry out in triumph.
“I knew it. Wait, what favour?”
Ronan sighs heavily and rubs his beard. I can almost see the cogs spinning inside his brain as he thinks.
“I need your help to break into the producer’s studio.”
My brows furrow so tightly it brings on a mild headache.
“Why would you need me to––”
“Remember how good we were together in the pod? Please Mel, I really need this.”
For the first time, he looks desperate. It’s sort of cute. It’s not every day a huge hunk of a man begs me for help. I’m on unmanned territory. Though I suppose I’ve been on unmanned territory since I arrived at this Castle. But I’m torn. What could he possibly intend to do in the studio? And why does he need my help? Can’t he just break in by himself and leave me out of it?
“If we get caught, we’ll be evicted,” I warn. Ronan nods.
“I know. Which is why we can’t be seen.”
I open and close my mouth several times, but no sound comes out as I consider the thought. All I want to do is eat too much food, drink a pint of juice and crawl into bed for the evening. But Ronan’s giving me the puppy dog eyes. I am probably imagining it, but I’m sure his bottom lip just trembled. With a huff, I inhale the rest of my food and wipe my mouth on the napkin. Then I turn back to him.
“Fine. What do we need to do?”
Ronan’s smile invades his entire face and his eyes twinkle once more.
Chapter Eleven
The Castle is a maze. Full of nooks and crannies, and so many doors.
“How do you know where to go?” I whisper to Ronan as we tiptoe along the halls. Most of the crew are still working, leaving our path clear. So far. Ronan waves his hand at me and picks up his pace.
“In here,” he says. He pushes open a door and peers in before pulling on my hand. “It’s clear.”
The room is like our bedroom. An unlit fire stands on the far side of the room, and a four-poster bed demands most of the space.
“This doesn’t look like a studio,” I say but Ronan shushes me. He marches across the room to a small desk with a computer and falls to his knees.
“This is where Julian and the producers do the editing.” Ronan rises to his feet with a briefcase in his hands. “They’re keeping everyone’s phones in here.”
“How do you know that?” I cross the room and look at the black briefcase. It’s tattered on the corners and the gold-plated number dials make me think it could be as old as the TV show. Ronan nods to the door.
“Can you keep a lookout, make sure no one comes this way. I’ll deal with the lock.”
“You brought me here to be lookout? Are you serious?” I whisper back, placing my hands on my hips. Here I was thinking he brought me along for my brains. Ronan doesn’t reply, the tip of his tongue appears out of the corner of his mouth as he moves the number dials, deep in concentration.
“Fine, I’ll be over here if you need me.” I slink to the door and stick my head out to survey the hall. All clear. I look back at Ronan as he grunts with frustration.
“What codes have you tried?” I ask him. His head pops up, and he studies at me, as if for the first time.
“The usual ones. Zero, zero, zero, zero. One, two, three, four.”
This time I let my eyes roll and shake my head.
“They’re not that stupid,” I say with a tut. “That case looks old. See if there’s a label on the back.”
Ronan examines the case and looks up like he’s just uncovered a massive secret.
“It says, Property of Jewel Smith records ltd.”
I walk over to inspect the case.
“Well, look at that. Jewel isn’t just the host of the Love Trials, she’s the producer.”
“She’s a bit of a one-man band round here.” Ronan cracks his knuckles. “What code would Jewel Smith use?”
I pace the room in thought. Maybe a birthday––no, Jewel is far too proud to let the crew know her real age. An anniversary… I’ve never noticed a wedding ring.
“Oh,” I say, struck with an idea. Ronan looks at me expectantly.
“Yes?” he blurts, glancing at the open door.
“Try two, zero, zero, zero,” I say. Ronan fiddles with the dials, and the lock clicks.
“How did you know that would work?” he asks, looking at me as if I’m some genius hacker. I give a shrug.
“That’s the year the Love Trials first began.” Ronan opens the case and peeks inside.
“Hey, there’s something interesting in here.”
“Really?” I lean in close to look, completely forgetting about watching the hall. A huge stash of phones sit atop a white folder. Ronan picks up his phone and slides the folder out for a look.
“Mel, there’s information about the challenges in here.” His eyes twinkle as he gives me a mischievous grin.
Before I can reply, Ronan’s face pales at the sound of heavy footsteps.
“Quick,” I whisper. Ronan slams the case shut and fumbles with the dials to lock it, then stuffs it back under the desk. I tip toe to the door and peer through the crack to see Julian and his crew walking towards us.
“We’re trapped. They’re coming,” I say, panicked. Goodbye London. I am just in the middle of saying farewell to all my hop
es and dreams when Ronan takes me by the shoulders and scoops me up into his arms.
“Ronan what––” Ronan silences me as he crushes my lips with his. I instinctively moan into the kiss and clutch his back with all my might. Is this his way of saying goodbye? One moment of passion before we get kicked off the show and go our separate ways? I don’t need an answer but follow his lead. He’s a delicious kisser. Firm, confident, and yet also gentle. The way he moves his hands up and down my neck sends my senses into a frenzy. I have forgotten where I am. I don’t even know who I am by this point. Every atom of my body is buzzing, I am electrified, and all my senses are on fire.
A cough by the door has Ronan dropping his hands and pulling away so fast I stumble forward and open my eyes in shock. Funny, I don’t even remember closing my eyes. I spin around to see Julian and his crew standing in the doorway. Staring.
“What do you think you’re doing in here?” Julian asks, tapping his clipboard on his thigh. I stand dumbfounded on the spot, struggling to remember how to speak. The memory of our kiss still running on a loop in my mind.
“Sorry.” Ronan grasps my hand. “We were just––”
“Yes, we could see what you were doing. Find your own room,” Julian says, walking in. The crew members step aside as Ronan apologises and leads us out to safety. And without another word, we run. My heart is pounding faster than my feet on the hard floors. Ronan and I hurry in silence, hardly daring to stop to catch our breath until we reach the safety of our room. I follow Ronan as he navigates the twisted halls and staircases as if he knows exactly where we’re going. I am completely lost. My chest is bursting with excitement, and adrenaline courses through my veins. He throws open our door and I fall onto the bed, breathless, while Ronan locks us in. He turns on the spot to look at me. His face flushes with colour, and his chest heaves. This man. This beast of a man. He sets my entire world on fire. And I love it.
Chapter Twelve
Ronan and I stare at each other, panting. Neither of us sure whether to make a move. His eyes are dark, and his gaze holds steady at me like a predator eyeing his prey.
Am I dreaming?
I wrestle with the compulsive urge to dash over to him and pull him in for another kiss. It’s only been a day. One day. I’m just not that girl, am I?
Everything I’ve done since I’ve arrived is so far removed from my comfort zone, I have almost forgotten who I am. Or perhaps who I was. Am I changing?
The logical part of my brain tries to reason with me. It was an act. If it wasn’t for Ronan’s quick thinking, we’d be in hot water, probably packing our bags to go home right now. But that kiss felt real.
I take a shaky breath and swallow hard to douse the flames of excitement rising from my stomach. I can’t give in to this. Unless the cameras are rolling, Ronan is off limits.
I tentatively leave the bed and sidle across the room to my chair by the fire. Ronan’s eyes follow me, but he doesn’t make a sound.
“Nice save back there,” I say lightly, trying to act casual. Ronan’s beard twitches as his eyes linger on mine.
“It was nice, wasn’t it,” he says unbuttoning his jacket. I collapse on the couch, as Ronan throws his jacket on the bed and flexes his muscles. A little part of my heart aches as I watch. He catches his reflection in the mirror and tousles his hair. Then he looks at me again and grins.
“Fancy a replay?” he offers. I stifle a laugh and shake my head.
“Best not.”
His face falls.
“Why?” he lowers himself to perch on the end of the four-poster bed and rests his elbows on his knees. The veins in his forearms bulge as he clasps his hands, and my mouth becomes dry. I clear my throat nervously.
“We don’t want to make things more complicated than they already are,” I say, sounding far more sensible than I am. Ronan’s face turns serious and his bushy brows knit together.
“You’re right,” he says with a nod. An awkward silence follows, and the two of us avoid eye contact, looking around our room.
“Did you get your phone?” I ask, suddenly remembering why we broke into Julian’s room. Ronan jumps to his feet.
“Yes,” he says, breathlessly. He pulls a black phone out of his pocket and drags a hand through his hair. “I’m going outside to make a call… if anyone asks for me, can you make up a story? Tell them I ate something bad for lunch and won’t be out of the bathroom for a while.”
I stare at Ronan open-mouthed. Well, that’s one way to kill the mood. I am cured.
“Sure,” I say, pulling a blanket to my neck and snuggling into the chair. I should get out of this dress, but the warm fire and soft blankets have me trapped. Ronan grabs his jacket from the bed and drapes it over his arm as he waves at me.
“Thanks,” he says and in one swift movement, he’s out the door.
It’s the first time I’m alone for over twenty-four hours, and the introvert in me sighs with relief. Time to recharge and relax. No more over-sized cameras watching my every move. No more couples staring me down. Or stylists messing with my hair. I unclip my hair and drag my fingers through it as it falls to my shoulders. The strands of hair are stiff and I remember the stylists applied a whole can of dry shampoo to rescue my greasy locks and look polished and smooth for TV.
This is a good time to message my bestie, Elsie. She would want to catch up and undoubtably share some wisdom on my situation with Ronan. I can almost hear her voice in my head.
“Melissa? Why did you turn him down? He’s gorgeous.”
I would roll my eyes and huff.
“It’s complicated enough having to pretend to be in love with this guy, I can’t,”
“But it would be a lot easier to win the competition if you both were a couple,” she’d say, her perfectly shaped brows arched. And I would sigh, knowing she had a point.
“I can’t trust him,” I say aloud to the empty room. Ronan is sneaking around with a phone he’s not supposed to have, speaking to goodness knows who. And he won’t tell me why he needs the prize money.
“What are you most afraid of?” Elsie’s voice floats into my mind. I look at the fireplace and stare into the flames. Perhaps part of me is hoping that I’ll find some answers there.
“What if I develop feelings for him, and when the game is over, he drops me like a rock?”
The question lingers in the air like a bad smell.
“You need a shower,” imaginary Elsie reprimands me. I heave a big sigh and stretch. She’s right. I head for the bathroom, wondering if a hot shower might wash my worries away.
Spoiler alert: I don’t think they will.
Chapter Thirteen
“Hey, Mel.”
A broad hand rubs my arm, and a dreamy sigh escapes my lips.
“Hey baby,” I reply with a yawn, my eyes still closed. A chuckle awakens my senses, and I blink into the morning sunshine peeping in through the curtains. Then I look at Ronan, kneeling beside me, his face just a few inches away from mine.
“You missed breakfast.”
I sit bolt upright with a yelp and cling onto my covers.
“I don’t even remember falling asleep,” I think aloud, raising a hand to my hair. After a tepid shower, I got into my fluffy onesie and tied my hair up into a bun. It’s still slightly damp.
“You were out for the count when I got back,” Ronan says, the corners of his eyes creasing as he gazes at me. I try not to imagine what I must have looked like asleep. I hope I wasn’t drooling.
“We missed breakfast?” I ask weakly. My stomach rumbles at the thought. Ronan makes a noise of wonderment as he takes out a container from his jacket like a magician conjuring a bouquet.
“Don’t worry. I brought you something.” He flashes me a smile as he opens the box.
“A full English breakfast in bed? I could get used to this.” I cross my legs and take the container. Ronan holds up a finger for a moment and retrieves a fork from his other pocket.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got sa
lt and pepper shakers hiding in your pockets, do you?” I quip. He grins.
“I wondered if you’d say that.” He kneels up and thrusts his hands deep into his jeans.
“Here you go.” He stuffs my hand with little sachets.
“I even got you ketchup, I don’t know about you, but beans don’t taste right without lashings of tomato sauce.”
My cheeks ache as I beam at him.
“So, did I miss anything? Did Jewel give a speech? Any idea what’s on the agenda today?” I fill my mouth with scrambled egg, and my stomach sighs with relief.
“We’re doing interviews today. Lots and lots of interviews.” Ronan presses his lips together and raises his brows at me as I groan. “Then we have the live eviction tonight.”
My stomach lurches and I stop chewing for a moment.
“Oh, right.” If the public don’t vote for us, we’ll be leaving… tonight.
“Did your phone call go okay?” I ask innocently, avoiding eye contact. I dive back into my food and wait.
“Yeah,” Ronan says. A heavy silence follows and lingers as I finish eating. I guess he’s still not going to tell me what he’s up to.
“We’ve got an hour before they need us to get ready.”
“I wonder what we could do to pass the time?” As soon as the words leave my lips, my hand flies to my mouth. That did not come out right. Ronan’s face flushes with colour.
“Are you flirting with me?” he asks with a wry smile. I shake my head, but I’m sure the grin on my face gives me away. His lips pucker and as I inhale deeply, his cologne floods my nostrils. It lures me in. And it would be so easy. All I’d have to do is lean in a little and… my throat becomes dry again. What is wrong with me?
I opt to avoid his question and finish eating my food, keeping my eyes on the floor. Ronan moves away, and the springs of the mattress squeak as he gives out a sigh.
“We were so close to finding out about the challenges.” He moans, as if mentally kicking himself. “Maybe today we could––”
