Page 38 of House of Desire

“I’m just trying to lure you into a false sense of security so you’ll keep me around, the audience will fall in love with me, and I’ll be the next lead on House of Desire so twenty men can fight for me.”

“Sounds like I might need to learn how to fight, then.”

Her eyes rake down my body and I heat under her gaze, the desire to kiss her almost taking over.

“You might want to get on that.”

Pulling my shirt off over my head, part of me wishes I had kissed Anya before she got into her car. But there was something holding me back. It felt too soon, and the thought of messing things up with her makes my anxiety spike.

Flipping on the light, I begin to undo my belt as I move through the house.

“Hey, good lookin’,” Victoria says from the bed, naked but for the sheet draped over her.

“How did you get in here?” I say, shocked, but trying to lock down my face, not giving her any reaction.

“I know you’re feeling the connection between us and I didn’t want to wait for the Desire Suite dates.”

After her little ear biting event at the group date, I knew I would be eliminating Victoria this week. When the pacer test got down to Anya and her, I was very worried I’d have to spend the night on a date with Victoria. I move toward the front of the house and I hear her get off the bed.

“Parker! I love you!” she yells at me, annoyance tightening her tone.

I rip the door open, calling for anyone from production before turning back toward her, thankful she brought the sheet with her.

“How could you possibly love me? We’ve barely spent any time together! And most of the time wasn’t even one-on-one.” I move out of the house, with her following.

“What do you mean how could I love you? You’re hot! And funny. And I know you love me, too. You don’t want to tell everyone else for the show, but I know it’s true.”

“Victoria,” I say, voice steady, as members of production start to come around us. And camera people. “I appreciate you have feelings for me, but unfortunately, those feelings just aren’t reciprocated. I don’t want to hurt you, and you’re a lovely woman, but I just don’t think you’re the right one for me. I think it’s time for you to go home. I don’t want to lead you on.”

The veil of civility drops from her, and standing before me is a goddess of rage.

“You think I should go home? You think one of those other bitches is the right one for you?”

She grabs up one of the flower pots that sits in front of the pool house and hurls it. The ceramic pot shatters, scattering dirt and flowers everywhere.

“Victoria, I think you need to calm down,” I say, mentally kicking myself. The knee jerk comment slipped out despite the fact I know it’s the worst thing you could ever say to an enraged person.

As she picks up and throws another flower pot, I hear the back door slide open as some of the ladies join the show. Intending to keep them safe, I move more toward the property line instead of the house. When the pot shatters on the ground, a part of my brain marvels at the fact the sheet is staying where she tied it. I hear one of the members of production send out a call to get the local police department sent to the house and I worry about Victoria, despite the fact she’s throwing things at me.

“I don’t know why I came here! You didn’t even give me a chance! No one ever gives me a chance!” she yells, throwing one of the lounge chairs into the pool.

A few of the girls chuckle at the sight, drawing her attention and ire. Before she can make a move toward them, I step back into her path, drawing her focus once more.

“You’re right. I didn’t give you a fair shot. I’m sorry. Unfortunately, I’m only allowed to go on so many solo dates and they are always determined by winners of competitions and whatnot. I would have picked you, otherwise.”

Anya comes into view, still dressed from our date, and Victoria’s eyes harden as she catches sight of her.

“You stole my date! It should have been me!” She starts storming toward Anya, but I keep myself in front of her.

“It should have been you. Maybe they’ll let us do a picnic here,” I say.

“Are you trying to placate me?” she screeches, turning her hateful gaze back to me.

Sirens tear through the air as the police near, red and blue lights flashing in the night sky. Two cops come through the front door of the pool house, taking my secluded entrance while movement from another two coming out of the mansion catches my eye.

“Ma’am,” one says with a thick handlebar mustache. “You’re going to have to get dressed and come with us tonight. We don’t want any problems.”

Tears start streaming down Victoria’s face as she takes in the scene around her.

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