The Consequence of Revenge (Consequence 2)

I narrowed my eyes at her. I hadn’t been acting weird. I had been acting sad. That’s what guys did when they had no passion for anything. But it was lame to tell her that for the four years we went to college my only purpose had been to be her best friend. That was me. I was one half of a friendship, and I was okay with it. I thrived off of it. But things didn’t stay the same.

She got married.

She graduated.

She got a job.

She moved on.

I stayed stagnant.

And staying frozen in place, when you’re a man of action, or typically a man of action, sucks.

“You know what I mean, Max, a purpose beyond hitting on girls, sleeping with them, abandoning them the next morning, and making up stories about sick family members so they don’t call you ever again, or worse yet, stalk you.”

Wincing, I shrugged and broke eye contact. “Yes. To answer your first question, I’m fine. I’m glad I came.” Milo had that look in her eyes that meant she wouldn’t stop pressing until I divulged more. “Look, I’ve just been in a bad place. For the last four years it’s been you and me against the world, right?”

She nodded.

“And then you moved on and I stayed . . . on my ass. I graduated but realized upon getting that fun little diploma that I had no idea what I wanted to do.” I sighed. “Doing the show hasn’t been the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Besides, I met Becca and was able to give Reid yet another reason to sleep with a night-light.” I flashed a smile.

“She’s cute.” Milo grinned. “Have you slept with her yet?”

“What?” I roared. “No! What the hell, Milo?”

“Just checking. She’s cute, she’s fun, she plays along with your insanity, and I wouldn’t want you screwing anything up just because you like to play night games.”

“Bed sport”—I rolled my eyes—“is a real thing.”

“Whatever.” Milo shook her head. “So what’s the plan? Get through the next week and a half, kick off the girls, and then what? Get the girl? Ride off into the sunset?”

I suddenly felt hot all over. My mouth dry. My nerves shot. Becca looked in our direction and waved. I had no choice but to wave back with a stupid grin on my face, while I said through clenched teeth, “That’s the plan, then again . . . she may not want what I want.”

“Max . . .” Milo looped her arm through mine. “Any girl who doesn’t want you is insane.”

“You didn’t.” The words were out before I could stop them. Holy shit, did I just say that out loud?

Milo froze, then looked up at me. “But you said, I mean you always acted like—”

“Gay?” I offered. “Stupid? Like I didn’t care? Like I was the sexless best friend without any feelings? Or just all of the above?”

“Max—”

“Milo.” I laughed and shoved my hands in my pockets. “It’s over and done with. I’m over it. I love you, not like that, but as a friend. Honestly, it’s my fault. I liked you too much to care. I just wanted to be in your solar system even if I was Pluto.”

“Pluto?”

“The last planet.” I sighed. “The furthest away from the sun, the most unliked, the cold planet, the one nobody can reach, the—”

“Stop comparing yourself to Pluto.”

We walked back in Becca’s direction. The minute we approached the table her face lit up when she saw me.

“Huh, interesting,” Milo whispered.

“What?” I felt my face light up.

“You may be Pluto, but she’s not the sun. She’s Neptune.”

“Huh?”

Milo rolled her eyes, “Look it up . . . Neptune’s right next to Pluto, genius. You do the math.”

With that, Milo walked off.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

BECCA

In typical Love Island fashion, the winners of the individual dates were announced with pomp and circumstance, meaning they had to walk through a tunnel of fire if their names were called.

It wouldn’t have been such a big deal.

But one of the girls had used too much hair spray. The night was almost ruined because of that hair spray.

As Rex announced each name, Jason, Milo, and Colton grinned from ear to ear. Milo even winked in my direction when I walked through the fire—unharmed.

I should have been excited.

But I felt . . . unsettled.

When I’d decided to do the show I hadn’t intended to fall for the guy. My head had been fully engaged in the game, in the competition. And the competition had been good to me. I’d been winning. Each game earned the winners either dates with Max or points toward prizes at the end of the week, when we could cash out and get things like cell phones, shopping sprees, and gadgets.

But at some point, my motivation had changed from money to Max.

Rex instructed all the girls to return to their huts. The first of five dates would take place tomorrow morning. Each girl was given three hours with Max, and during those three hours he could choose if she stayed or went home. Those three who weren’t chosen for the individual date would go on a group date.

At the end of the day three girls would stay and two would go, so only five of us would be standing at the final ceremony.

“Pssst!” A noise came from the bushes.

I whipped around and stared at the trees. What the heck?

“Psst!”

“Okay, stop freaking me out,” I said out loud, slowly walking backward.