“How would I know that?”
“Well, I figured with me being your celebrity crush and all.”
“You’re not my only crush.” Her voice is barely above a whisper and I want to ask her not to remind me, but
I can’t bring myself to say those words. Each second that I’m with her, I find another thing I like about her. Even the most mundane things, like how she brushes her hair fascinates me.
“I live with my parents,” she adds, maybe sensing that I’m starting to feel bad for myself. “I wouldn’t move in with Tony until after we were married. My room isn’t anything on the grand scale, but I do have my own bathroom and my mom cooks dinner every night that requires us to sit down at the table. My mom, she’s very proper sometimes.”
“Hmm, sounds like I need to move into your house.” She freezes momentarily when I blunder. “Anyway, everyone thinks that you’re automatically rich when you become an actor and you own all these cars and houses. I’m not there yet, but maybe someday I will be. I have to pay my agent every time I get a movie deal or an endorsement, as well as my lawyer and don’t forget the fact that Uncle Sam sure likes his portion, too. I’m investing for a future and not spending every cent I make.”
The water starts to turn cold. We need to decide whether to run some more, or get out. I pick up her hand and look at her pruned fingers. “We should get out,” I say, but don’t move. If she wants to stay like this, I will. We can keep each other warm. I wrap my arms around her and bury my head into the crook of her neck.
“I don’t know what it is about you, but I feel like I can tell you anything.”
“It’s because I’m your wife. It’s the law or something,” she laughs, and pulls away from me. I feel the loss of her immediately, but it’s going to be short lived because I have every intention of holding her while we sleep. I stay in the water while she steps out. The bottom of her swimsuit has risen, showing off her ass cheek. I picture myself biting it as I pleasure her, but that will just have to be a fantasy. Joey disappears into the dressing room and I pull the plug, letting the water drain out of the tub. When she steps out, she’s dressed in a black negligee, one I haven’t seen yet. It’s short and perfect, showing off her sexy, tanned legs. The valley leading to her breasts is inviting me to let my tongue explore. Teasing me about everything I’m missing and denying not only myself, but also the both of us. I swallow hard and start to stand.
She looks at me and shrugs. “All of our clothes have been washed. I didn’t want to dirty up one of your shirts.”
I step out of the tub, letting water drip down my legs and onto the floor. My hands find her shoulders and then cup her cheeks. “You can wear whatever of mine you want, Joey.” I place a small kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you in bed.”
I don’t wait for her response as I move into the dressing room to change. My brain—the one below my waistband—is screaming at me to forget about the moronic rule I set and take my wife to bed.
I hate my life. Okay, not really, but the unfair life I’m leading right now is really starting to depress me. Yeah, sure I’m married to a Hollywood actor, the same one that I’ve had a massive crush on since he broke out onto the scene. I know there are hundreds, maybe even thousands, of women who would trade places with me in a heartbeat, but what they don’t know is what makes my life so unfair right now.
Across the Astroturf lawn is my drop-dead gorgeous husband, shirtless. His body glistens in the sun after he asked me, with batted eyelashes, to rub him down with sunblock. I didn’t hesitate as I rubbed my hands over every inch of his skin, trying to memorize all that I could before the moment ended. The contours of his chest and the ridges of his abs still linger on the pads of my fingers. He thanked me with a kiss.
A kiss!
I wanted more. I want more now, and every second that we spend together just increases my desire for him. The hand holding and random kisses are not enough to sustain me for three months. Last night in the bathtub I could feel that he wanted me, so I know attraction isn’t the issue. No, the issue is his bullshit rule that we can’t be married outside of the house. Does he not see how that makes me feel? I’m on this show to find my forever, like Millie. Not my temporary.
Joshua and I are nothing like Amanda and Gary. We get along and we want to spend time together. Those two are at each other’s throats all the time and she can’t keep her eyes off of my husband. It’s annoying, and even though he and I will be done when the show is over, she doesn’t know that.
I try to read the novel in my hands, but my eyes want nothing to do with the words printed on the page. No, they’re focused on Josh and the beads of sweat that I imagine are dripping over his well-defined valleys and traveling over his hipbones. The V that every woman desires in her man is like a beacon in mine. I want to mold my body to his so I can feel him pressed against me, just one time.
The gasp next to me causes me to lose focus and look to my left. Thankfully, dark sunglasses cover my eyes and Amanda can’t see my eye roll. When is she going to stop gawking at someone that will never belong to her? I shouldn’t say that. Maybe Josh and her have a connection that I’m not aware of. I should ask him, but then again I’d really hate knowing she’s his type and I’m not. That thought alone drives me deeper into my self-induced-let’s-feel-sorry-for-Joey depression. I can’t fault her, though. Of all the guys here, she sort of got the short end of the stick. Gary is that guy who didn’t grow up around a lot of women. He doesn’t know how to act. He’s a bit crass and definitely rude, nothing like Joshua and Cole. It’s easy to see why he’s still single.
Millie comes out with three glasses of wine, handing one to Amanda and I. It’s hot and I shouldn’t drink, but what the hell? What’s the worse that’s going to happen?
A lot.
“How was last night?” Millie asks, as she sits down next to me, creating a Joey sandwich with Amanda on my other side. Amanda spins her legs around and faces me. Of course, she wants details. I look at Joshua and wonder how he’d feel if I made up a night of passion or if he’d want me to go with the standard “no comment” that he gives so many times when answering questions about his personal life. If we’re not living a life outside the house, what does it matter?
I shrug nonchalantly. “I’m not sure I really want to talk about it. I mean, I didn’t ask you, Millie.” I decide playing coy is the only way to go. I don’t want to lie, and I don’t want anyone to know that he just held my hand all night. The less ammunition Amanda has the better, in my opinion.
“Huh,” Amanda says before turning back around. “I never thought about that. I guess I wouldn’t want you guys asking about Gary and me. I mean, Cole told everyone when he was asked. I suppose we just wait until the next live show.”
Great, she has to be the voice of reason.
“Yeah true. It’s just that Joey is living out a fantasy that we’ve all had, and I was curious if the hype is there or if he’s a complete dud in bed.”
I spit out the wine I had just begun to swallow and both of them start patting me on the back. My eyes meet Joshua’s, and even from across the yard I can see the concern. I shake my head slightly, hoping he knows that I’m okay and that he doesn’t need to come over here. I don’t want the others getting a good look at his chest, even though he likes to go around shirtless. I think he does that to drive me nuts, to get my lady bits worked up only to be let down at the end of the night.
He has to know he’s hot.
“Joey to the confession room.”
I groan at the robot coming over the intercom. This morning we were told that our confession room sessions would start today. It’s nice how the show has eased us in, and not thrown everything at us from the get-go, but the confession room is something I can do without. I don’t have anything to talk about, and I have a feeling the questions or prompts will be invasive.