Page 16 of My Irresistible Enemy

Bisexual, not gay. Interesting, if true. Nolan didn’t seem to be denying it.

“Well, I didn’t mention it in my audition package,” Nolan said, pulling another egg from the carton. “So, no. I didn’t think it was relevant. I don’t even know how you found out.”

“I have my ways.” Tanner’s smile grew broader.

“And you really want this conversation shared with millions of viewers, where you admit to stalking and scrutinizing your contestants’ love lives?” Nolan’s back was ramrod straight. He still wasn’t looking up, though.

“Oh, we can edit all sorts of things out in post. And it was hardly stalking. We do background checks on everyone before casting them. Par for the course.” Tanner waved a hand lazily. “I’m just curious—you really don’t think it’s impressive forA Piece of Caketo have two queer men on the show this season? You don’t think that represents progress at all?”

“I don’t think it’s relevant,” Nolan said, annoyance dripping from his voice. “I’m here to bake, not perform some kind of regressive stereotype to make people laugh at me.”

That time he did look up—but not at the camera. He looked right at me. So much for solidarity.

“Interesting.” Tanner’s eyes darted between the two of us. “So do you think some people on this show put too much emphasis on personality? Style over substance?”

“I don’t know anyone on this show well enough to comment.”

“You sure about that?” The words flew out of my mouth before I even realized I was speaking.

Tanner, Nolan, and Em all looked at me. Crap. Well, I might as well keep talking if I was getting more screen time.

“Because it sure sounds like you’re commenting on other people’s behavior without knowing a single thing about them,” I said sweetly.

Nolan’s mouth opened and closed again. By all rights, he should have looked like a guppy doing that, but he didn’t. He was still hot, and that annoyed me almost as much as his words did.

“I would think that another member of the LGBT community would know how harmful it can be to judge people right off the bat, based just on appearances,” I added. “But I guess if that’s how you feel, I can’t do anything to change it.”

With a sad little smile and shrug for the camera, I turned and went back to work. Winning the argument felt good, even if I was the one who’d started it. Nolan had no right to be so judgy.

Unfortunately, my winning streak didn’t extend to my baking, and by the time we had to bring our work up to be judged, all I had to show for myself was a batch of mostly raw cookies that I’d only been able to put in the oven for five minutes before I had to pull them out.

Tanner choked down a piece of one and motioned for someone to bring him a glass of water.

“You might want to check how much salt you added to that,” he said. I winced.

“I really don’t understand how you managed to burn and underbake these at the same time,” Vivian added, flicking a charred, black flake off the edge of her cookie. She shook her head in amazement. “I must confess, I’m disappointed. I’d hoped for more from you, Aiden. Better luck next week.”

“If you make it,” Tanner added.

On that delightful note, we were all dismissed for a quick lunch break. I tried not to let the judges’ comments get to me. They were warranted, for one thing. It’s not like I hadn’t known my cookies sucked.

It might have been a little easier to take if they hadn’t praised Nolan’s chocolate-dipped shortbread quite so much. I’d been able to smell his cookies as soon as he took them out of the oven, and I hated how much they’d made my mouth water.

It was insanely hot in the tent, and we were supposed to shoot some confessional segments that afternoon, so I went back upstairs to grab some deodorant and brush my teeth. My room was on the third floor of the bed and breakfast, at the back of the house, and shared a bathroom with the room next door.

I should have knocked before going in.

After yesterday’s experience, you’d really think I would have learned to be more careful. I should have knocked, but I didn’t. I just opened the door—and found myself face-to-face with a half-naked Nolan, a towel wrapped around his waist.

His nostrils flared, and I froze, halfway in the bathroom, halfway out. It was a strange reversal of yesterday’s encounter, and I didn’t think the similarity was lost on either of us. I opened my mouth to apologize—I might not like the guy, but I could at least show him thatsomepeople had manners—but he spoke first.

“Did you need something?” His voice was cold.

Well, fuck saying sorry, if that was the kind of greeting I was going to get.

“My toothbrush,” I said, my tone short. Were the room assignments based on our workstations? Why the hell did I have to share withhim? “And the sink.”

Nolan stood to one side and waved a hand like he was ushering me in.

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