Matched

by Angela Graham

  “I don’t,” he replies evenly.

  I’m ready to continue my rant when his words sink in. “Wait, what?”

  “I said I don’t think they’re soulmates.”

  “You just risked $10,000 of charitable money! You realize that, right? People are going to be pissed, Miles. Or, what if the jackass computers say they are soulmates? You shoved them back together, and then I’ll be pissed.”

  “Look, I watch her every day, secretly hoping Jensen pulls his head out of his ass and changes his ways. But while you all were out, he was in the Lovin’ Lounge with Rachel.”

  I’m not surprised. Thoroughly repulsed, but not surprised.

  “I get it, but still—”

  “I’m in the bed right across from hers, Harlow. You may be in the same room, but you don’t see what I do every night.”

  “Like what?”

  His expression’s pained. “She cries herself to sleep more nights than not. She thinks she’s hiding it behind her pillow, but I can hear her…see her body shake. The girl’s miserable, and if proving to her through a stupid computer test that they’re not meant to be helps her in some small way, I’ll risk the wrath of everyone here. I had to do this. I couldn’t give a shit about the money—I’ll find a way to replace it. I just can’t stand to see her cry anymore.”

  I’m at a loss, heartbroken for my friend and ashamed I never knew. I wish I could go hug her right now. But instead, I reach out and embrace Miles. “You’re one of the best guys here, Miles. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

  “You should be.” He laughs, kissing the crown of my head before we break apart. We’re about to drag ourselves to the Great Room for the big reveal when I turn to see Callie standing there, listening.

  She nods at Miles. “We’ll meet you there,” she tells him. He smiles and leaves the room.

  “Hey, you feeling all right?” she asks me when Miles is gone.

  “Fine, why?” I start to walk, her at my side.

  “Well,” she says with a laugh, “you sat down in the middle of the game.”

  “I wanted to give Emma a shot at winning.”

  “Damn Miles.” She laughs again. “I knew Cruz would let her have it, and Oakley was distracted by those two bloodsuckers. Guess we should’ve told him the plan too.”

  “Oh, he has one of his own, trust me.”

  “Okaaay. Should be interesting. So, uh…where’d you guys go this morning?”

  “Ugh, you had to ask,” I groan. “Emma dragged us through the wilderness to a guest house about a mile away. We just swam in the pool. Nothing special.”

  “Right,” she says quietly.

  I move in front of her and stop. “We didn’t want to wake you up. Emma said you might be tired. Sorry if you’re upset.”

  Her face tightens with what looks like nerves. “Is that all Emma said?”

  I know what she’s getting at and part of me wants to know if there’s something going on, so I shake my head. “No. She also said you and Oakley were up late talking.”

  She replies slowly, her eyes on mine. “We were. We do that a lot, but I promise you that’s all it is. He’s a friend…we just get each other, I guess.”

  “How’s he doing?” I ask, needing to know.

  “Honestly? He’s shocked, hurt, angry, and maybe even a little embarrassed…but deep, deep down he understands why you broke it off. He just wishes it were different.”

  “Then why doesn’t he come talk to me?”

  “Like I said, he’s angry.”

  “Well, I’m angry too! He and I have always been friends. I was honest with him and don’t deserve the cold shoulder. You tell him I—”

  “Not gonna happen,” she interrupts, and my eyes widen. “Look, I’m sorry—I really am—but I’m begging you not to involve me in it.”

  “Involve you? You spend every night talking to him, so you’re obviously already involved, Callie.”

  She sighs heavily. “I get that, but I’ve just been an ear for him when it comes to your relationship. I don’t impose my opinion, and I definitely don’t play messenger. I told him this exact same thing, and he’s stopped bringing you two up when we talk. I’m sorry, Harlow. You’re my friend, first and without fail, but I don’t want to start a chain of ‘he said, she said.’ And I don’t think you want that, either.”

  Her eyes shift to the cameraman at our left, and I want to cry. Again, I’m humiliating myself, airing my dirty laundry in the nation’s living room. How is it possible that I hardly notice these cameramen lurking around anymore?

  “You’re right,” I tell her, feeling worse. “I’m sorry I asked, and I really am glad Oakley has someone to talk to here.”

  “Don’t apologize. I get it—really, I do.” She hooks my arm in hers, and we start back off toward the house. “I’m sorry you and Oakley are going through this, but you never know…maybe there’s still hope for you guys.”

  “Yeah,” I mumble, my head foggy. “Maybe. I’d really miss my oldest friend. Hard to fight when neither of us intentionally did anything wrong.”

  When we enter the Great Room, Peyton and Rachel are at the front on one side of Tom, while Jasmine and Jensen are on the other, waiting impatiently for us.

  “Looks like we’re ready now. Peyton, you seemed sure, so we’ll let you go first,” Tom deems. “Please unlock Rachel’s safe.”

  He shoves the key in with a smug grin that quickly turns sour and agonized when the click of the internal notch echoes through the room.

  “No…no way.” He shakes his head as the safe door swings open. “This is some rigged bullshit!” he snarls.

  “Trust me, I’m not thrilled either, Nancy boy.” Rachel rolls her eyes flamboyantly and pulls out the tickets inside. “Awesome, London. Go me!”

  “Miles?” Tom, as shocked as anyone, turns to him. “How’d you call that?”

  “Easy. Neither of them made any real effort whatsoever to connect or find love, and they’re both loud and out for themselves. They’re twin souls if I’ve ever seen a set.”

  Score: Miles 1.

  “And the moment of truth. Jensen, please try Jasmine’s safe,” Tom says. “If it unlocks, all four of you are heading home and the community charity bank becomes $75,000 richer!”

  Jensen takes a moment and looks at Jasmine. But instead of sliding the key into her safe, he drops down to one knee.

  Oh, God, no. This cannot be happening. My hands cover my mouth, but the words I’m thinking actually gasp from Emma’s and the room looks her way.

  “I mean…wow,” Emma says, attempting to recover.

  Jensen grabs the hand of a clearly flabbergasted and shaken Jasmine. “Since the first day I saw you on set—all timid and scared to take off your little lace panties—I knew I wanted to take care of you…encourage and mold you into the perfect woman you had hiding underneath that sweetness.”

  I’m struggling not to vomit, and poor Jasmine hasn’t even blinked.

  “I care about you, Jasmine Cox. Now you know I’m not the marrying type—and baby, that isn’t gonna change. But I want to offer you the best of me, a promise to always look out for you and be your best friend. What we do in the bedroom with whoever has never mattered to us, and why should it?”

  “What?” Callie whispers at my side. My jaw is about to hit the floor, and I’m pretty sure Adam is going to kill something or someone; his scrutinizing rage is electrifying every air molecule in the room.

  “Jasmine, I think I may love you,” Jensen continues. “I want you to move in with me after we leave here. Let’s show the world that open relationships, when you’re with your soulmate, do work.”

  Slowly, Jensen stands. Jasmine is still completely frozen, without having spoken a word. The tension grows from uncomfortable to suffocating the longer we wait for her response.

  Luckily, Tom rescues her before I march up there and do it myself. “Well, I wish you both the best. But before you make any big plans, let’s see if your key fits.”

 
And just like the ass he’s always been, Jensen slides in his key, grinning at the room. But that machismo melts into visible anxiety as he jiggles the key, then tries again with no luck.

  “Sorry, you two,” Tom interjects. “It appears you’re not soulmates.”

  “Thank God,” Callie blows out in relief before sinking down in the armchair next to Emma. I look to the spot where Adam had been standing and find him gone.

  “Well, you know what this means. Peyton and Rachel will be leaving us tonight, and Jensen and Jasmine are one step closer to finding their true soulmates. Unfortunately,” Tom finishes with a frown, “$10,000 will be coming out of the collective bank. I really thought you had it after the first one, Miles.”

  “Me too.” He looks anything but disappointed.

  “That’s it for tonight! Everyone bid Peyton and Rachel farewell; they’ll be leaving shortly. I’ll see the remaining ten of you tomorrow.”

  Confessional: Miles Newman

  “Hey, I’m Miles. Figured I’d do you all a favor and explain what’s going on around here. Considering how confused the people actually living this are, I can only imagine what watching it at home is like.

  “Well, it’s hotter than a mess. ‘Depraved insanity’ is more accurate.

  “No, I shouldn’t say that; there’s actually a few really decent people here. You just have to be able to see through the bullshit to the person they really are—who they’d be and how they’d act if not trapped in this loony bin. Fortunately, I think I’m pretty good at that, and I’m not playing when I say I struck gold with my roommates. Our room is by far the sanest, cleanest, and most activity-free of the house.

  “Funny how things work out…the people I admire most are the ones knee-deep in drama, because they actually have hearts and give a shit about others. As for the ones who have no feelings, aren’t invested in anything, and are drama-free…I’m done with them. I came here with Rachel as her plus one, her best friend and roommate.

  “Huge mistake—or an eye-opener I’m glad I came across sooner rather than later, depending on how you look at it. Let’s just say if we were allowed access to phones or e-mail, I’d already have asked my brother to pack me up and move me the hell out of the apartment I share with her. Rachel’s always been a mouthy, diva bitch; it’s what I liked most about her. But I don’t do manipulative and cruel.

  “I do, however, dabble in intelligence, strategy, and planning—which is why she’s the one packing to leave right now, and I’m the one who’s gonna win this whole damn thing.”

  Chapter 20

  Emma, Callie, and I follow Jasmine the moment Tom dismisses us, attempting to keep up as she flees toward our bedroom. Her idiot “best friend,” Jensen, doesn’t even notice. He’s too busy pouring shots, boasting that soulmates or not, she’s still his girl.

  Callie expresses everyone’s shock as she slams the bedroom door. “Holy shit! What the hell was that?”

  If I was on actual speaking terms with Oakley—or even Cruz, for that matter—I’d barter with them to give the schmuck an ass-kicking. But I’m not. Court already has one black eye, and I’m not sure Miles is the fighting type.

  I move toward Jasmine’s bed, where she’s already flopped down face first. A pang of guilt hits me. A few days ago I was the spokeswoman for anti-violence, and now all I want is to see Jensen taught a lesson for thinking Jasmine would accept his pathetic attempt at chivalry.

  But enough about how I feel. Right now, the only thing that matters is Jasmine.

  Emma’s already sitting beside her, rubbing her back in silent support while Callie lingers at the door, making sure no one barges in. She gives me an imploring look to say something; guess she’s not up for it. Probably not a good idea to couple Callie’s poor bedside manner with her outrage at the jerk who just publicly declared our girl unworthy of the ultimate commitment—monogamy.

  “Jas.” I sit beside her, watching the heavy rise and fall of her back as she breathes in short, choppy bursts. “Take a deep breath.” I inhale a loud, long stream of air through my nose and blow it back out through my mouth in an attempt to coach her. She lifts and turns her head my way, her eyes glazed with glittering tears.

  “He…” She tries to speak, but it dies in a choked sob.

  “Shhh, try to relax first. Just breathe,” I coo, but it doesn’t help. Her entire body begins to shake violently as an onslaught of tears erupts.

  Emma takes control, grabbing Jasmine’s shoulders gently. “Turn over and look at me,” she says with stern empathy, and miraculously, Jasmine listens. With her attention now, Emma simulates the healthy-way-to-breathe technique. Jasmine mimics it slowly and her body finally begins to relax, her shoulders dropping and breath coming easier.

  Emma releases her hold and smiles. “That better?” she asks.

  “Th-thanks,” Jasmine stammers softly, wiping her eyes and sniffling. “I’m sorry.”

  “No way, don’t even say that!” Callie bursts out. I was wondering how long she’d last. “That asshole put you on the spot and disrespected you in front of the entire world. You have every fucking right to be upset.”

  She’s absolutely on point, but...brash, and loud. I shoot her a wide-eyed glare, with a look that clearly says, “Not helping.”

  “Sorry,” she murmurs. “Just hate him. Can’t help it.”

  Jasmine rubs her nose and inhales another deep, cleansing breath. “I waited so long to hear him say ‘I love you.’” Her voice is wobbly, and I resist the urge to point out he only got as far as saying he thinks he may love her. God, I hate him. “But I can’t share him. I don’t want to.”

  “You don’t have to,” Emma says gently. “Talk to him—be honest. If he really is your best friend like he claims, he should understand. I may not know a lot about relationships, but I was kinda under the impression ‘I love you, we’re together, so please don’t sleep with other people’ was an automatic rule.”

  Jasmine shakes her head rapidly. “Not with him it’s not, and he won’t understand at all. I mean, I don’t know…maybe this is as good as I’ll ever ge—”

  “Stop!” I interrupt, my anger bristling. “Look at me. You will find the guy who’s perfect for you in every way, and who wants to give you the world. I already told you this. I meant it then, and I mean it now.”

  “But he—”

  “No! Jensen’s made it amply, disgustingly clear what he has to offer. Now it’s up to you to make a decision, accept him and risk missing out on the love of your life out there somewhere, waiting for you, or be honest with yourself and tell Jensen the truth.” I’m not backing off this time. “What do you want, Jasmine?”

  “I want it all.” Her voice quivers with unfamiliar strength, and she’s about to continue when the door flies open. Callie catches herself just short of a face plant.

  Adam’s standing in the doorway. His entire body is coiled indomitably, his eyes dark and seizing Jasmine’s.

  “Out,” he commands the other three of us, with no wiggle room for even a thought of an argument. “Now.”

  But I’m not about to desert her. I take her hand and squeeze, but she lets go. I search her eyes, and she nods. “It’s okay. Go.”

  You mean leave you alone with this imposing thunderhead of a man? No. He’ll have to go through me first.

  I’m slow to stand, watching Callie walk out and Emma stop to whisper in Adam’s ear.

  “Harlow?” I glance back at Jasmine. “I’ll be fine. Did you know bears are scared of fire?”

  Um…

  She grins, almost erasing my worry with her next words. “I’ve got plenty of fire in me. Now go.”

  I do, but not before stopping at Adam and saying in my scariest voice, “I don’t like this one bit. There’ll be no safe place on Earth for you if you’re even thinking about not minding your manners.” He doesn’t reply and only stalks closer to Jasmine. She pulls her legs up and rests her chin on her knees.

  I’m not sure what he’s about to say—hopefully so
mething to make her realize how screwed up what her and Jensen have is and that he’d love to offer her much more—but he looks more pissed than poetic.

  I step into the hall and reach back to grab the doorknob, catching him sit beside her on the bed and wrap his arms around her entire frame. She sags against him, unleashing it all as I shut the door.

  “I think he likes her,” Emma chirps happily.

  “I hope so.”

  “I think I’m gonna go grab a shower. You guys got this?” Callie asks. We both nod as she’s already walking away. “If you need me, I’ll be in my room when I’m done.”

  Emma and I are continuing down the hall when Cruz meets us at the top of the stairs, his mind elsewhere, almost plowing us over. “Sorry,” he says to only Emma, then rushes past.

  “Hey!” Emma calls after him. “Don’t go in there. Adam’s talking to Jasmine.”

  “Oh.” He stares down at the doorknob pensively. “Guess I’ll play another game of pool after all.”

  He walks past us again without so much as a glance my way, heading back downstairs. I’m busy cringing internally when Emma steps in front of me, crossing her arms over her chest and widening her stance.

  “So.”

  “So?”

  “Seriously?” She sneers. “What the hell happened in that grotto?”

  I can’t even look at her. “Nothing,” I whisper to my feet.

  “Bullshit.”

  Now I lift my head at her cruel, shocking bite. “Emma—”

  “What? You have no problem lying to me, so I’m not gonna feel bad about getting real with you. That means profanity will be used.” Her brows rise. “So?”

  My eyes close on a deep, humiliated sigh, and with no safe place to hide, I sink to the floor and rest my head against the wall. “I kissed him.”

  “I figured.” She plops down next to me and crosses her legs.

  “Just on the back…he was there, and perfect, and…I don’t know.” I run my hands through my hair. “I kissed his back a couple times, actually. And yeah, I wanted him to turn around, and…and…doesn’t matter. He shot me down.” I look over at her. “I totally misread between the lines. Now he’s pissed, and there was obviously never anything between us, so I’ll just have to endure looking like an idiot. Again.”