Page 53 of My Irresistible Enemy

“It’s just…you don’t like him, but you are hooking up, but you don’t want anyone to know, but you are pretending to be interested for the cameras, but you don’t care about him, but you do care what he thinks about you?” Henry chuckled. “Up is down. Left is right. I don’t even know what’s going on anymore.”

“Nothing! Nothing is going on. We’re not currently hooking up, wewerehooking up. No, not even that. That makes it sound like it was a thing. It wasn’t a thing.”

“Even if you only hooked up once, that still counts as a thing.”

I winced. “Technically, it was twice.”

“Twice!?”

“Don’t say it like that. It didn’t mean anything. The first time was just because I pissed him off so badly that he—honestly, I don’t even know what it was about. It was good, but very unexpected. To say the least.”

“And the second time?”

“God, I don’t even know. We were fighting again—what else is new?—and one second, I wanted to slap him, and the next, I was ripping his clothes off. I mean, Istillwanted to slap him, but like, I wanted to be naked while doing it.”

“Hot.”

“Kinda. But also really fucking weird. He’s just so stuck up. And convinced he’s right about everything. And weirdly neurotic. And then he just shuts down completely and stares at you instead of talking, and you can just feel waves of judgement rolling off of him.”

“Less hot.”

“Exactly.” I bit my lip, wondering if I should say what had really been bothering me. “The weirdest part is, he won’t even let me reciprocate.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that both times, I came. I camehard. For someone who’s such an asshole, he does know what he’s doing. But he barely lets me touch him. I still haven’t even seen his dick.”

“Whoa. Definitely weird.”

“Tell me about it. I can’t help wondering if there’s something wrong with me. Or if I’m doing something wrong.”

“I’m sure you’re not.”

“Then why won’t he let me fuckingreciprocate?” I growled. “See, this is why I didn’t want to talk about it. I hate that I’m still thinking about this when he’s already said he doesn’t want it to happen again, and clearly isn’t interested, and is a complete jackass, and honestly doesn’t deserve any more of my attention or time. I’m sick of it! I’m sick of thinking about him, or talking about him, or having anything to do with him at all.”

“Except for the whole part where you’re trying to convince America you’re in love.”

“Ugh. Yes. Except for that part. But I’m not even sure how much longer that’s going to last, either. There are only six of us left on the show, and I’m clearly the worst of us all. I think I’m going home, no matter what.”

Henry chuckled. “Maybe you should try going out with a bang then. Proposition him on camera. Ask him why he won’t let you see his dick. Offer to suck him off.”

“Oh my God, you sound like Nora.”

“Who?”

“One of the people who works on the show. It’s not important.”

“I’m just saying, it could be compelling TV.”

“It would also get me sent home immediately. Innuendo is one thing. Public indecency is something else.”

“Still, it’d be memorable, you have to admit that. And wasn’t that your whole reason for coming on the show?”

It was. Henry was absolutely right about that. But something had changed over the past few weeks, without me even realizing it.

I still couldn’t bake anything decent without Nolan’s help, but I found myself wanting to get better. To stay on the show and prove that there was something in this world that I didn’t suck at. Prove it to everyone else, and prove it to myself.

Why was I only just realizing that now, when I was in danger of going home?

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