Chapter Five
Finn
Leighton's words stay with me even as I go through my morning workout four days later. It was one of the things I’d stipulated in my contract, a private gym, or gym equipment, off of my wing of the castle. If I had to put up with 20 crazy women, the least they could do was give me an outlet to take out my stress and frustration.
And did I ever need to take it out.
This week had been filled with group dates, one disastrous one-on-one date, and one girl who’d lied about being engaged and was sent home when production found out.
I’d heard from three of the girls that Kristen, the first girl who’d come out of Leighton’s limo, was already causing drama by talking shit behind most of their backs.
And don’t get me started on the tears. God, the fucking tears. Two girls had already cried to me on the two group dates I’d had for not getting enough time with me. Another had cried, telling me she missed her kids that she’d left at home, who she cares for as a single mom. I had no sympathy for her, and sent her home right then. I’m sure America would label me heartless for that move, but I thought she was fucking heartless. Who left their children at home to come on a stupid reality TV show? Especially when I could tell by her grip on my thigh as she told me her sob story that she clearly wasn’t there for everlasting love.
To make things worse, I had a group date with four girls today, and that included Leighton.
I'd made it a point to avoid her all week, filling my time talking to other girls or just hanging out by myself in my wing of the castle. But I always knew where she was in the room, it was like her body gave off a GPS signal to mine. I couldn't not notice her, and from what I'd gathered this week, she was busy buddying up to Erin.
Leighton was a smart cookie. She knew that Erin was the closest to my type, the girl I already had my eye on and would keep getting to know as the season progressed. She wanted to get into my head, fuck with me and tease me. Jesus, why was she fucking here?
The group date today was still in LA, the last one before we headed out to whatever location they deemed necessary. When asked about my travel preferences after I accepted the role, I told producers I wanted to visit as many foreign countries as possible. If I was going along with this, at least I'd get some free travel out of it. Although that's what I'd thought about the Marines when I'd joined up at 18-years-old, and look how that had turned out. I only hoped all of my limbs were intact at the end of this process.
A knock sounded on my door. "Come in!" I yelled as I pulled a fresh grey T-shirt over my torso. I was rocking jeans even though it was about 90 degrees outside, a hot day for LA in November. But I wasn't ready to go full-on robo-leg with a bunch of strangers. Especially ones I was trying to impress.
"Finn, my man...ready to go?" It was Mitchell, sans cameras.
"Yeah, I'm all set. What're we doing today?"
"Grab your bathing suit. The girls will be doing a swim race of sorts, you'll be in the pool to judge them. Then the winner will get private time with you afterwards."
I grimaced. "Mitchell, I specified when we laid out the contract that I wanted no pool parties."
My right leg, or lack thereof, was the one thing in my life that I was so self-conscious about I would avoid any activity that forced me to expose or talk about it.
"Get over the leg thing, right now, buddy. One of these women is going to be your wife. You're going to have to show them your G.I. Joe side sooner or later."
Most people would think that was his way of pumping me up, giving me a pep talk. But I knew the studio thought my faults and war-hero background were going to up the sympathy factor, therefore boosting ratings.
"That's a no-go. I am wearing this. I can judge from outside of the pool." Plus, who wouldn't want to observe the way four women's bodies moved through the water from above.
Half an hour later we were at the Mondrian Hotel's Skybar pool deck, four gorgeous women splashing around in the pool before me. The roof of the hotel was like some modern, Grecian bath house. Four walls rose up around the space, almost making it a room. Except there was no ceiling, only sky, and each of the walls has about six large cutouts that would be windows if they held any glass. The space is done in bright whites, overgrown ivy and tall leafy trees, and the deck is made up of a beautiful cedar plank. Large comfy loungers and beds with stark white cushions litter the patio.
This was supposed to be every man's fantasy, nothing but tiny triangles and scraps of materials covering the most intimate parts of some of the world's most beautiful women as they glided around, wet and desirable, in front of you.
Except I couldn't enjoy it, because I couldn't look anywhere but at Leighton. She'd worn a white two piece, way too skimpy to swim seriously in, and all I could think about was ripping it off of her with my teeth. The top laid delicately over the sloping angles of her natural tits, the skin underneath creamy and tan from the sun beating down on her. I couldn't see her ass from my view above the pool, but her exposed stomach was causing my cock to twitch wildly, almost painfully, in my jeans. Flat and smooth, it sloped inward in a natural way. Not a she-skips-seven-meals-a-week kind of way. No, everything about Leighton was natural, which made her all the more appealing when set against some of these women who looked like they hadn't had a hamburger since Jesus last walked the earth.
I must have been staring at her because when I meet those hazel eyes, glinting in the rays of the sun, there is a challenge in them. She knows she is going to win this, just like I knew she would. Swimming was Leighton's favorite form of exercise. She used to say running made her too sweaty, why do that when there was a workout you could get a tan doing?
Two girls on the date, Ashley and Monica, had similar skimpy suits on, in gray and navy respectively. They looked incredible, but desire didn't burn through my loins when I looked at them like it did when I gazed at Leighton. The last girl, Kennedy, had a modest black one piece on. I remembered talking to her earlier in the week and her saying she was very religious. She was a sweet girl, but I already knew it wasn’t going to work out. I didn't believe in God. How could I, after everything I'd been through? I wasn't bitter about it, but I knew for a girl like that, it would be a relationship ender.
"Ladies! Welcome to your first group date with Finn. I know how excited you all are, and so is Mr. Right." I smiled at Mitchell's words, playing my part well. "Today you'll be swimming for Finn!"
Oh that was fucking original.
Mitchell went on. "Each woman will do three laps, meaning from this end and back again. Whoever completes the laps in the least amount of time will get to spend extra time with Finn here tonight in a romantic dinner overlooking Los Angeles. The other three ladies will have to go home. Do we have any volunteers for who would like to go first?"
I knew he'd asked this because it would create insecurity and competition in the women. No one wanted to go first, because everyone wanted to know what time they would need to beat. Everyone except for Leighton.
"I'd be happy to kick this group date off!" She hopped in the pool, checking the strap at the back of her neck to make sure it would hold firm while she swam.
The other girls flocked to me as Leighton took her mark at the wall of the pool.
"Finn, why don't you go swimming with us?" Monica pouted her thin lips, flicking her brunette hair over her shoulder and trying to rub up against me.
"He'll swim when he's ready, right? Maybe tonight at dinner with me?" Ashley grinned.
I'd forgotten how forward the women were on this show. All I could was smile, making sure to pair a friendly vibe with it.
"On your mark, get set, GO!"
Leighton kicks off the wall in a powerful and graceful push, gliding elegantly over the surface of the water. Her toned arms and shapely legs barely make a splash as she cuts through the pool, flipping and kicking as she comes to the opposite wall. I know she isn't even putting her all into it, and yet she’ll win. That's Leighton, always trying just enough so th
at she'll get her way, but never going all in. That would require risk, having something to lose, and she'd never put herself in that position.
"Time!" Mitchell shouts when she surfaces, barely even looking winded. I could see the other girls giving her a mean stink eye. "Wow, Leighton, 1:43! Ladies, that is going to be tough to beat."
She lifts herself out of the pool, the water sluicing off of her skin in the most alluring way.
Ashley volunteers next, but only makes it through one and a half laps before stopping and complaining of a cramp. Jesus. Monica completes the laps but is slower than molasses at five minutes. Kennedy is the only one who gives Leighton a run for her money, but misses beating her by about five seconds.
We sit eating fruit and drinking champagne afterwards. It all feels completely contrived and forced; one, because the girls are still dripping wet in their bikinis, and two, because everyone just knows at any moment they'll be sent away. Leaving me with Leighton. There is also that in the air, the tension of knowing I have to be alone with her soon.
We've made nice all day for the cameras. She's actually even engaged with the other girls, telling funny one-off stories about me, letting them in on information about my likes and dislikes. She's charming when she wants to be.
Finally Chuck yells cut and I say goodbye to Ashley, Monica and Kennedy, hugging all three of them before they sulk off in defeat. That leaves me with Leighton, who is being helped into a sleeveless dress that wraps around her body using ties. The PA or intern helping her can't keep his eyes off of her tits, and before I can help it, a bolt of jealousy lashes through my system like a whip.
"I'll do that." I take the last tie from him, moving in closer and wrapping it around her waist, pulling it into a tight knot with the tie hanging at her hip. Being this close, it melts away the hard outer shell I've formulated to protect myself from her. Leighton is my favorite drug, one whiff, one taste and I'll be sucked right back in, not caring one bit that she is the worst thing for my health, my system, my livelihood.
I hear her intake of breath and glance up, my eyes connecting with hers. She's staring at my lips, and I know exactly what she would taste like in that moment. Mint and familiarity and lust.
A cameraman shuffles his foot and the spell is broken. I back away, cursing myself that they got that all on camera. Its probably what she wanted to happen.
Chuck whispers from somewhere in the throng of cameras and crew. "Let's move over to the dining table. You two talk."
Chapter Six
Leighton
The Mondrian was one of the hottest watering holes for the trendy LA elite. I'd been here once or twice after my fame on Mr. Right last year, but never at night.
And never in a private setting like this.
Lanterns with chunky white flickering candles littered every surface, and the open spaces between the beams of wall gave us a spectacular view of the glittering city at night.
When they'd announced that the group date held a swim challenge, I'd practically known that Chuck set this up just for me to win. It wasn't a secret I was an avid swimmer, anyone who had watched Right Now Island knew that I swam almost three miles each morning.
I sat across from Finn at a cozy table filled with fruit, cheese and wine. Too bad we couldn't eat it. Oh, you didn't know? Contestants are never allowed to eat the food. Its all staged and eating looks too messy and unattractive on camera. They just put the delicious looking spreads in front of your face to taunt you more.
"So what have you been up to? Have you been practicing lately?"
I try to start the conversation off on a neutral subject, and one that I know Finn likes to talk about. It was one of the things that drew me to him on Right Now Island, the fact that he had a steady job. Even though I couldn't say the same. He was somewhat passionate about physical therapy, although I knew that it was the traumatized soldiers who drew him to the work more than anything else. He saw through them, as if each patient was exactly like he was, broken and angry at the world. I'd seen that side of him only twice, but it had been scary. I couldn't imagine what it was like for those men fresh off the battlefield.
Finn leaned casually back in his chair, his muscular, boot camp-worthy body eclipsing the small table we sat at. He looked gorgeous, with his hair slicked back in that classic swoop and his indigo eyes dazzling under the starlight. I might have been drooling.
"Just this mostly. I get back to see the guys at the clinic every now and then, and home to see my dad in Nebraska about once a month." He eyed me, folding his arms across his chest.
I heard the slight mechanical noise of his prosthesis as he crossed one leg over the other.
Finn had always been conscious of it, almost ashamed. I hated that. In every other aspect he was the confident, do-it-all, positivity guy. His leg had never bothered me, and I'd told him so a thousand times. One night I'd even caressed the shortened appendage as I went down on him, wrapping my lips around his shaft. Did he think about that sometimes?
It slays me that he is hyper-aware of it now, as if he had to hide it from these girls. Worse, I knew some of them would react like immature children at the first sight of it.
Our conversation was beginning to become stilted, boring. We weren't strangers, he couldn't ask me questions about what I saw for my future or how many kids I wanted or what love meant to me. We'd already had those talks, they'd already aired on TV. Now there was nothing left but stale memories, regret and hatred.
"Do you have enough to make a segment?" Finn looked at Chuck after we'd been talking for about ten minutes.
"We can piece something together, yes."
Finn stands, his full six-five figure startling me from where I sit. I'm short, I know this, but next to Finn I've always looked like a Hobbit. Six inch heels are like a full time requirement with this man.
He's about to walk back into the hotel when I speak. "Finn, wait..." I turn to the crew, Mitchell and Chuck. "Can you all give us a minute?"
Chuck looks at me disapprovingly. "Leighton, you know we can't do that. You're not supposed to get anymore time than any other girl."
I see through his fairness act. "Spare me, Chuck. You brought me here for a reason, and it wasn't to play nice or fair with the other women. Get out."
My tone is like ice and my message comes across clear. They begin to pack up and head for the doors inside, waiting for the elevators to come and take them to the cars back to base camp.
Finn is still standing there, barely keeping his annoyance restrained. My eyes float over him, and again I wish he had been in that pool today. Maybe I would have given it my all when beating the other three girls. Not that my half-trying didn’t net me the win.
"What?" He grits through his teeth.
"Can you sit?" I try to play nice.
He walks back over but leans against the wall instead.
"You can't treat me like this for the next month and a half." I twirl a lock of hair around my finger, suddenly nervous.
"Treat you like what?" Finn fires back.
"Like I'm the dog shit stuck in your shoe."
He chuckles, but its quiet and deadly. It's not his usual uninhibited laugh. "You're lucky I even sat at that table with you and made small talk without throwing you in the pool. Or over this ledge."
"Jesus, Finn, that's harsh." Although I don't know why I wasn't expecting it.
"And why wouldn't it be? Do you remember what you did to me? What you put me through, Leighton? Fuck, I don't even know why you're here."
He was dangerously close to making me spill the truth. That I was back here for him. That I still loved him with everything I had. "I told you before...I need the money, my mother made me—“
"Oh cut the shit! You might be a great actress and liar to everyone else, but you forget that I know you. I don't buy the fame-whore bit, not this time."
He stares at me, those brooding, stormy eyes invading my soul. Its like he sees through me, into me, and I know I'm caught. "Would it be so bad if I wa
s here for you? To get you to fall in love with me?"
My voice is a whisper, insecurity and meekness carrying on the wind. I suddenly felt very small and afraid, as if saying the words out loud made them this tangible thing. He was open to, and probably would, reject them.
And then the Finn I'd only seen twice in all of our time together surfaced. It was like he'd shed his skin, the one made up of a funny, charming man, and turned into a monster filled with hurt and rage and fury. He grabbed the chair he'd been sitting in only minutes before and swung it off its legs, smashing it hard into the wall just inches from my head. I flinched and ducked, covering my skull in case any debris hit me as the chair splintered and crumbled to the ground.
I looked up quickly, just in time to see Finn throw what remained of the chair into the pool. His cheeks were red and ruddy with anger, his eyes rabid and menacing.
"I did fall in love with you, don't you remember? I found you and you found me on that goddamn island, and I fell head over heels for you. I made promises to you, I held you, I was inside of you. I got down on one fucking knee and pledged my life to you forever. And what did you do? You stabbed me in the back until my fucking organs were spilling out of my body! You flirted with and kissed another man. You had me so fucking twisted up in your lies that I couldn't see straight. So congratulations sweetheart, you did get me to fall in love with you. And I'll never make that fucking mistake again as long as I'm fucking breathing."
Without waiting for a response, he stormed away from me. I swore I could see my heart, a fractured, ground up piece of meat, lying still and defeated on that pool deck.
Chapter Seven
Finn
Five Months Ago
Kissed by Reality Page 3
