Authors: Elizabeth Briggs
“Nika should have been kicked off,” I said to my table. “It all feels so…rigged.”
“I always did suspect the producers influenced the judging,” Trina said. “Every year the people who cause the most drama stay on longer, while the boring ones go home early. And Tom was definitely boring. He barely said a word to anyone. Nika, on the other hand…”
Trina’s words brought back what my roommate Maddie had said about her time on a different reality TV show,
The Sound
, where bands competed to win a record deal with a major label. The producers had manipulated the results of that show, too, to make sure a certain band won. Could the producers be doing the same thing here? Kicking off the more boring designers while keeping the ones who created good TV?
Kelsey’s comments rushed back to me, about how the producers would love it if Gavin and I got together. And with a sinking feeling, I knew what I had to do to stay on the show.
***
I took a long, hot shower and felt a thousand times better. My cold was pretty much gone, thank god. I couldn’t afford to spend another challenge sick.
When I finished up and left the bathroom, the living room was a ghost town. The communal areas always cleared out quickly after dinner. Some people took showers before bed, but most just crashed, hoping to get as much sleep as possible before the next challenge in the morning. Especially tonight, when so many people were still sick.
Gavin emerged from one of the other bathroom doors a moment after I did, and I spotted my chance to get him alone. Before he could say anything, I grabbed his arm and yanked him back inside his bathroom. I shut the door behind us, checking to make sure no one had seen us go in together. The cameras would catch the entire thing, but that would only help my plan.
The bathroom was small, and when I turned back to Gavin, he was close, nearly touching me. If he was surprised I’d pulled him in here, he didn’t show it. The room was steamy and his hair was damp, so he must have just gotten out of the shower himself.
His hands slid around my waist. “You know, you could have gotten me alone the other night if you hadn’t given your room to Molly. Though I have to admit, that was a pretty nice thing you did for her.”
His voice was right at my neck, sending goosebumps across my skin. God, I loved his accent. And he smelled so good, like soap and heat and the promise of sex. I put a hand on his chest but couldn’t summon the effort to push him away. Instead, my fingers dug into his shirt, tugging him closer. “Don’t get any ideas. That’s not why I dragged you in here.”
“No?”
He didn’t wait for me to answer. He lowered his head and caught my mouth with his, claiming my lips in a passionate, demanding kiss. I groaned as his tongue found mine, sliding, stroking, making my every nerve dance. His hands tightened around my waist, pulling my hips against him, closing that slight distance between us. I gripped the collar of his shirt, kissing him back even as my mind yelled at me to stop, that this wasn’t why I’d wanted to meet with him. But my body didn’t want to listen.
Finally my brain reclaimed control, and I pulled away. “Stop that.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Stop what?”
“Kissing me.”
“You’re the one who kissed me.”
“I did not!”
“At the very least, you kissed me back.”
He had me there. I stared at the blue tile in the shower behind Gavin, hoping if I kept my eyes averted I’d be able to get through this conversation without jumping him. Good thing I’d given away my room the other night. Being alone with Gavin made my body lose control of itself. I couldn’t trust myself around him, and for once, I was trying my best
not
to sleep with a hot guy.
“This is the only safe place to talk without being recorded,” I said. “And I have a proposal for you.”
He leaned against the counter, an arrogant smile on his lips. “A proposal? Maybe we should go on a date first, love.”
“Not that kind of proposal.” Aaaaaaaand there went the desire. Now I just wanted to smack his sarcastic, smug face. His really handsome, sarcastic, smug face.
Never mind. I still wanted to jump him.
“It’s related to what we discussed at dinner. How the judges are keeping people who cause drama over people who are better designers. And I don’t want to go home.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“Kelsey told me the producers want us to get together because they think it would make for good TV. I bet if we pretended to hook up, it would increase our chances of sticking around ‘til the finale.”
“You want to pretend to be what…a couple?”
“Yes. A fake relationship for the cameras, just until the end of the show.”
He crossed his arms, flashing his tattoos. “What’s in it for me?”
“Um…” I hadn’t thought that far ahead. The idea had seemed good at the time, and I’d confidently rushed forward without thinking it through. “Wouldn’t you rather I make it to the finale than Nika?”
He gave a lazy shrug. “Sure. But it doesn’t really matter who else is at the finale, since I’m going to win either way.”
God, he was arrogant. I stood taller, looking him in the eye, hands on my hips. “You’re cocky now because you’ve been in the middle or on top every week, but we only have five episodes left, and Dawn, Trina, and Jeff have all won challenges, too. What happens when it’s down to the wire, you against them, and someone has to go home? Dawn and Trina are together, so they’ll be safe. Jeff? He’s a good designer, he was on last season,
and
he’s an asshole. He’s not going anywhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if the judges are grooming him to win. Are you really that confident you’ll make it into the final three and get to New York Fashion Week?”
It was a big speech, but I needed him more than he needed me. I had to convince him, or I would probably be out next week. And definitely before the finale. As much as I liked Molly, Dawn, and Trina, I wanted to win. Whatever it took.
Gavin stared at the wall for a long minute, and I couldn’t read the expression on his face. I held my breath, waiting to see if he would go for it. If he said no, I didn’t know what I’d do. Find another way to cause drama somehow? I could try to get into a big fight with Nika…
Finally, he uncrossed his arms and met my eyes. “All right, love. I’ll play along with your game. But what happens when we make it to the end and are competing against each other in the final three?”
“Then…I guess we break up.”
He nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. “How do you want to do this?”
“Tomorrow, during the challenge, we should make it obvious we’re interested in each other. Then we can get caught kissing.”
“I’ll make sure to take the same lunch shift as you.”
“Perfect.”
I was tempted to say more, struck with a sudden urge to tell him I wasn’t just using him to stay on the show. Except I was. And why should I feel guilty? I didn’t want to date him. I didn’t even
like
him. I wanted his body, and that was it. In fact, I should probably set some boundaries so he didn’t get any ideas about this turning real.
“Remember, this is all just pretend,” I said. “I’m not interested in you. At all.”
His eyes narrowed. “Good, because I’m not interested in you either.”
“Good! Because you are the
last
person I would ever actually date.”
“The feeling is mutual, love.”
Then we were kissing again, a kiss that was as much a battle as it was a caress. Our tongues fought for domination, our hands clawed at each other’s clothes, our bodies strained to touch. My back hit the wall, pressing against some half-wet towels. I barely noticed. His hand was under my shirt, sliding up my skin, and he groaned when he found my bare breasts, my nipples already hard. He circled each one with his fingertips, and I moaned, tugging at his hair.
I was doing a real shitty job of setting boundaries here.
“Just don’t go falling in love with me,” I got out between kisses. “This is strictly a business arrangement.”
“Not a problem, love.”
“And stop calling me that!”
“Whatever you want, Julie.”
But my name on his lips, with his accent, felt far too intimate. I changed my mind—it was better when he called me anything but that. I pushed him away before this could go any further.
“Tomorrow,” I said and left the room.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
T
he sixth challenge was perfect for me. We were taken up onto the roof of the building, where we had a 360-degree view of New York. The rooftop patio had a few potted plants and some comfy couches and chairs, creating a relaxing outdoor lounge. I’d been out there a few times before to sunbathe and get some fresh air on the rare occasions we had a few spare minutes that weren’t spent sleeping or eating or designing.
Once there, Lola gave us our challenge: to make a functional, real-life superhero costume. The catch? We only had eight hours to do it. Yep, another speed challenge. That wouldn’t be a problem for me though. I’d already designed a ton of superhero clothes—that’s how I’d won my spot on the show, after all. It made me wonder if they’d chosen this challenge just for me because they’d told me to tone down the costumey elements. Were they were trying to set me up to fail?
Either way, it was time to put my new plan into action. In the fabric room, I made sure to ask Gavin to help me get a bolt down in front of Derrick and Nika, since they were big gossips.
“Please, Gavin,” I said, batting my lashes and putting my hand on his tattooed forearm. “Help a girl out?”
“Anything for you, love,” he said. “I know it’s tough to get things down with those baby T-rex arms.”
He stretched up to get the bolt, and his shirt rode up, exposing a patch of skin along his stomach. His jeans were low, showing off his hips, the very tops of his boxer briefs teasing me. Thoughts of him without those jeans on flooded my mind, but I pushed them away. I had to stay on task.
I tried to look sexy-cute and formed my hands into claws. “Rawr.”
He grinned as he handed me the bolt. “You think you’re ferocious, but when you do that, I just want to hug you.”
“Is that all you want to do?”
“Not even close.”
We were being ridiculous, but Nika and Derrick were staring, so it must have been working. Derrick rolled his eyes and walked out of the aisle, but Nika looked like she might stab me in the back with her scissors. Perfect.
I grabbed some zippers in the next aisle, but when I went to pay, I saw Nika blowing a kiss to Gavin—and carrying the same fabric as me. Oh, hell no. She was not getting
my
fabric and using
my
methods on
my
guy.
Wait, when had he become
my
guy?
Okay, scratch that last one. But the fabric was mine first, if nothing else.
“Seriously?” I said to her, as she got in line behind me. “You’re getting that one, too? I know you saw me grab it first.”
She shrugged. “Nothing says we can’t use the same fabric.”
I nearly growled I was so annoyed. I was even tempted to get different fabric, worried the judges would think I was copying her and not the other way around, or that they’d complain about two similar looks on the runway. But fuck it. That was the fabric I wanted, the one I’d picked out first, and I was going to hold my ground and get it even if Nika was going to be a pain in my ass. But if she copied my outfit, there’d be hell to pay.
Back in the design room, I scratched a note and left it on Gavin’s table.
Helping Nika steal my fabric was
not
part of the plan.
He scowled when he saw it and quickly replied, dropping it in my lap as he walked past.
She asked me for help. What was I supposed to do?
Stop being a gentleman for five minutes?
Never. And do I detect a hint of jealousy?
Ugh. He was impossible. I crumpled up his note, refusing to answer him.
The show was down to eight designers, which meant it was a lot easier for us all to talk to each other. Unfortunately, that also meant I could overhear other conversations in the design room. And the only gossip Jeff and his fan club wanted to talk about? How I got on the show.
“I can’t believe she never had to audition,” Derrick said, while he was draping something on his dress form.
“No wonder her looks are so costumey,” Nika added.
“This challenge should be perfect for her, then,” Jeff said. “How nice of the judges to go easy on her this time. Meanwhile, it will be a miracle if I can get this top on my model with her cleavage.”
“So unfair,” Derrick went on. “First Julie gets invited on the show, and now the judges practically guarantee she’ll win this one.”
I was tempted to pretend I didn’t hear them, to sulk silently and whine to Trina and Dawn in private later. But no, I was done with their bullshit. I stomped over to the other side of the workroom and waved my scissors at them. “You know, I can hear all of you.”
They each gave me innocent looks, and Nika said, “We weren’t—”
But I was just getting started. “No, I didn’t audition for the show, and I’m not going to apologize for being invited on it. But hey, I’m flattered you talk about me and my clothes so much, especially since I barely think about you three at all. And if you have something else to say? Next time say it to my face.”
Behind me, Trina started clapping, and soon the other designers joined in, including Gavin. Nika muttered, “Whatever,” while Derrick and Jeff busied themselves with their dress forms.
After I returned to my table, Gavin walked past and slipped me a note.
Looks like you don’t need my help to get the producers’ attention. Still want to do this?
I looked up at him and nodded. I may have caused some drama, but I doubted it was enough to secure my spot on the show to the end.
When it was lunchtime, Gavin and I both volunteered for the first shift. I wasn’t sure how we would get to the kissing part, but that never seemed to be a problem for us. It was when we talked that he drove me crazy.