Page 38 of Knot Just for Show

I’ve been getting pretty bored in between all of this conversation with noaction—even if I’m almostpositivethat a few of the women I’m talking to are probably mega babes. Won’t do me any good until we get to the reveal and that vacation in the tropics, baby. Assuming that I can get one of these chicks to carry me that far without realizing my real reason for being here.

I’m ready for some hangouts with the ‘boys ’ even if it’s just to get someone to spot me on my bench pressing. I’ve been getting rusty since coming here, I swear—even though it’s only been a few days.

First date of the day down. Roxy, the acrobat and exotic entertainer, asked me to exchange scent cards within two minutes of the start of our date. Not like I’m exactly surprised, we’re both gym rats with attitude—and of all the girls I’ve talked to in here, Roxy is the only one who feels like she’s both super cool and fun to hang out with and who is also totally hot-girl-coded. Plus, she swings both ways apparently—maybe I canswinga threesome at some point before this show is over. The only thing better than one hot girl—is two or more hot girls.

Brittney, my second date of the day, is also definitely hot-girl-coded. Hell, notcoded. She’s all but told me that she’s an absolute smoke show in person. Influencer, model—talks about how she goes out with her girls to all the clubs and bars. She knows she looks good—she just hasn’t given me the details on camera. Of course I also opted to exchange scent cards with her—there wasn’t a choice really.

Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy.

Maybe, if I play my cards right, I can convince Roxy and Brittney to turn me into a Teddy sandwich.

Suzi, Jesse, and Kara totally give off Minion vibes. All three of them are clearly so far up Brittney’s ass that they wouldn’t actually match with me if she’s got any real interest—so I bite the bullet and end those fledgling relationships, declining their requests to exchange scent cards later this evening.

There’s a lot of crying and sniffling and dabbing of eyes on their part, but for me—I give all three girls the same variation on my canned ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’spiel that I give with every one of my breakups. It’s early yet, and I know that they have other dates to exchange cards with—they’ll get over it.

Then there’s the matter of Ursula.

I was so worked up at the prospect that I might have nothing going for me besides my looks—that I went hard into the paint securing my second date with her today. It would be shitty and cliche of me to dump her just so thatIcould be the one doing the dumping… But she’s kind of a wild card. Definitely interesting, absolutely challenges me—which is something I would be looking for in a real partner, but I’m not here to find a real partner. I’m here for the promo.

Not to mention, I have no idea whether she’s a babe or what. She could be an absolute stone fox—or she could be frumpy and kind ofmeh. Brainy chicks can be like that.

I grab a sandwich and a bag of chips on my way to my date with Ursula. I still don’t know what I’m gonna do about scent cards with her…but it will probably get easier if I’m not trying to decide on an empty stomach—am I right?

“Hey Teddy,” Ursula’s voice greets me, cool and collected, from her side of the wall as I enter my ‘bubble’.

“Hey—” I stop myself short of saying ‘gorgeous’ after our last conversation. “How’s my favorite sea witch?” I joke warmly, dropping onto the couch with my lunch.

If my ears don’t deceive me—this actually causes her to outright groan.

“You okay?” I call through the wall, unwrapping my italian sandwich from its wax paper wrapping.

“I should have said something yesterday…but I really don’t love the whole Little Mermaid reference thing,” she sighs.

I roll my eyes. C’mon, everyone knows the octopus lady! I’m just trying to be friendly…

“Oh, my B,” I apologize half heartedly, chomping down into my sandwich.

There’s an awkward silence that follows. I do my best to swallow down the huge bite of cold cuts, shredded lettuce and Italian bread so that I can make another appeal to Ursula’s good graces when she begins to speak—cold, clear, and with a distinct air of disinterest.

“I was going to tell you some pretty personal stuff today if we were thinking that we might be exchanging scent cards Teddy, but I think that maybe—maybe you and I are better off as uh…” She takes a poignant pause, searching for the most diplomatic word she can, before finally setting on, “Friends.” She attempts to unload me gracefully.

“Woah, woah, woah,Princess!” I interject, setting my sandwich down on the couch cushion beside me to better focus on the conversation at hand.

“Princess?” she scoffs.

“Yeah–Princess.”I really drop the p-word on her, because it’s proven—all chicks fuckin’ love being called princess. “I feel like you’ve been ready to get rid of me from the word go—just because I’m a little bit of a dumb jock and that’s obviously notyour type.” I turn the tables on her.

“Wha– No, I just–” she stammers, clearly unprepared for me to keep my grip on her.

“Admit it, Princess, you’re afraid of saying ‘yes’ to me because you think that I’m just some big dumb hunk of muscle and that you’re going to be able to run circles around me intellectually.” I grab my sandwich and scarf another too-large bite, pleased that I’ve got her on the ropes. I’ll defs get another scent card outta this one, improving my chances to make it to the next round—where the real money shots of me shirtless on the beach—surrounded by hotties; are bound to put Teddy Wong stocks on the rise.

“Pfft!” Ursula blows a raspberry of exhaustion, breaking my stride before I can really seal the deal. “Absolutely not!” she protests as I prepare to shove the rest of the sandwich into my mouth.

“Ok, so why do you always give me such a hard time? Is it like a little kid on the playground pulling the girl he likes pigtails or some shit? Because you can just say youlike-likeme already, babygirl.” I assure her before jamming the tail end of the grinder in my face.

“You wanna know why I give you such a hard time, Teddy?” she winds up, and I kick back—licking the last of the oil and vinegar from my sandwich off of my fingers before I crack into my bag of chips; waiting to hear her confess how smitten she is with me. To listen as she breaks down and admits that she hasn’t stopped thinking about how hot I might be after we talked yesterday.

“Lay it on me, Princess.” I knit my fingers and tuck my laced hands behind my head—ready to bask in the glory.

---