Gage groans.
“You know him?”
“One of Raven’s assistants. He’s both bitchy and ass-kissing, and now there’s exactly zero chance that everyone in the house doesn’t know we’re here. Or that the camera crew isn’t scrambling for their equipment.”
“That’s wonderful,” I mutter, unbuckling my seatbelt.
“Ellie.”
I look up.
“How do you want to play this?”
“Does it matter? They’re going to turn it into whatever story they want.”
“Probably,” he agrees. “No matter how it goes down, they’ll likely edit it to get the best soap opera melodrama they possibly can. But what do you want from me? I can tell them it was my idea.”
I smile. “Well, it kind of was.”
He grins back. “Zero regrets.”
“Me neither.”
I intended for my tone to match his playfulness, but it comes out as a whisper, revealing far too much.
His smile slips, and he reaches out, touching my cheek. “I’m going to ask something, but you have to promise not to freak out.”
My heart begins to beat faster at his serious expression, but I try to keep it light. “Sorry, no promise there. Besides,
I’m already freaking out.”
This time it’s Gage who doesn’t respond to the playfulness, his expression intent. “What if I didn’t send you home at the next ceremony? What if you…” He swallows. “What if you stayed? Just to see where this went?”
What if you stayed?
For a heartbeat, I feel like flying. He wants me to stay. But I crash in the very next instant as I realize what staying would mean. It would mean continuing to play the game. Having to watch as he goes through the motions of dating all of us women. I’d be able to see him at night, yes, but what about the rest of the time? Our days would be controlled by the producers, and the fewer women that are left with each passing day, the more one-on-one time he’ll spend with them. I don’t think my heart can handle it.
And when you throw in the fact that the whole thing leads up to a wedding…
I want to get married someday, I do. But not like this. And that’s if he even wanted to. Let’s be honest—his track record on weddings isn’t great.
It hits me then what’s really going on here.
I’ve fallen for a runaway groom. And an actor at that. If there was ever a guy whose middle name was heartbreak, it’s this one.
I lift my eyes to him. “I can’t,” I whisper. “I’d always be wondering what’s real and what’s not, and I did my homework on the stats of relationships that start out this way, and they’re not…I like you, I do, but I can’t…I don’t—”
“Ellie.” He smiles, and though it shows off his trademark dimples, the smile doesn’t light his eyes like it usually does. “I get it. It’s okay.”
I turn my head into his hand and press a quick kiss to his knuckles, hoping it doesn’t reveal too much.
Then I take a deep breath and reach for the door handle. “You ready for this? I’m thinking we just say as little as possible. It was a mistake, we got carried away, and we’re sorry.”
“Done,” he agrees. “Oh, and one other thing. Let’s keep where we were between us. I’ve purposely let everyone think my preferred escape is the Tyler Hotel chain. Nobody but my agent knows about the Four Seasons thing. And definitely not about the Mr. Belvedere alias.”
“Oh!” Surprise makes my voice higher than normal. I try to play it cool. “Sure, of course not. Our secret.”
Before I can overthink what it means that he’s let me see a part of his life that he normally keeps private, I’m marching toward my doom. Or at least it feels like that.