Page 111 of Say Yes to the Nemesis
I reach for my wine again, trying to cool off after the kiss. After the whole crazy scene. After that one blazing moment when everything else disappeared.
I try to shake off the awkwardness of returning to reality, taking a shaky breath as conversations resume around me. Wren is still beside me but miles away. Silent and distant. The tension hangs between us like smoke.
I’m pretty sure Elena’s got a whole new plan now and won’t stop until she gets exactly what she wants.
She paces behind the cameras, hatching new schemes, while I sit there dazed and drained and not sure how to handle this latest insanity.
Later, after everyone’s been herded out to the back patio for the fastest rose ceremony we’ve done all season, I call the names like I’m supposed to.
They’re expecting dramatic tension, lingering shots, and suspenseful pauses, but I power through it at warp speed instead. I get through the names like I’m ripping off bandages. Fast, clumsy, and hoping the sting won’t last long.
Wren’s name leaves my lips with more force than necessary. I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. About how it felt. About how she wouldn’t look at me afterward.
Nobody misses my hesitation. My pause is monumental as her name echoes in the night.
Her eyes find mine for a fraction of a second as I hand her the rose.
I’m not sure if she’s angry or confused or both. Maybe she hates what just happened.
Maybe she’s scared she didn’t hate it enough.
When I say Daisy, I pause again. I don’t mean to, but I can’t help it.
She looks at me with big, playful eyes and that mischievous grin, already knowing what it means.
“I’m sorry,” I say. I hand her a goodbye rose. “You’re not the one.”
She nods, hugs me, and makes a joke about dodging a bullet. Because that’s Daisy. Always the life of every party, even her own farewell.
Elena’s thrilled with the unexpected drama and is probably brainstorming how to make Wren and me even more of a spectacle next week.
I’d put money on her sending us on the dreaded two-on-one date. The ultimate showdown. Guaranteed humiliation.
My mind spins in a million directions, but I can’t shake how close I just came to messing everything up.
Wren doesn’t look at me. Not directly.
Every time I think she might, she turns away at the last second, avoiding my gaze like it burns.
I feel the sting of it as the rest of the girls gather inside. Full of whispers and speculation now that the biggest cat is out of the bag.
I catch sight of a few producers punching notes into their phones and scrambling to adjust the storyline.
Everyone looks a little frantic as we file back in. A little too eager to build on the segment they never saw coming.
The whole house heaves with so much noise, it feels like the walls will burst. A thousand voices. A thousand excited whispers. Everyone’s alive with the sound of what just went down.
I lose track of Wren in the chaos. I’m not sure if she’s avoiding me or just caught up in the surge, but Elena’s voice carries over it all.
“Keep rolling!” she shouts, full of manic energy, ready to capitalize on the madness. “We’re getting it all on camera!”
Her words push the crew into a frenzy, desperate to capture more shocking moments. More sizzling drama.
I barely have time to think before I get swept away in it again. Thrown right back into the storm of glittery chaos.
That’s when it happens.
A sputter. A flicker. A buzz.
