Chapter 13: Chapter 13

Amy

“He’s disgusting,” Cody says, a scowl marring his face.

I take a deep inhale, enjoying the scent of freshly brewed coffee and hot pastries. I invited Cody here to tell him everything that happened last night. His reaction is exactly what I expected, and yet it annoys me.

I must be messed up deep down, because Tristan’s possessiveness last night turned me on a little.

“Tristan is a caveman,” I say, fiddling with the sleeve of my cappuccino cup. “It’s not surprising he would mark his territory.”

Cody’s lips press into a thin line. “I hate that he thinks he owns you.”

“It’s good for me that he thinks he does. It’ll be a big shock when I sleep with him and sneak out of his bed in the middle of the night.”

Cody’s jaw ticks. “I hate that you’re planning on sleeping with him. I think it’s too much.”

The warmth of the coffee cup seeps through to my fingers, grounding me in the moment. It seems like Cody’s a bit of a territorial caveman, too.

I reach out and touch his hand. “What’s wrong? Are you afraid I’m going to become part of his friend group and ditch you? You should know I’d never do that.”

He wraps his hand around mine but keeps his gaze fixed on his coffee cup. “I know you wouldn’t.” The words are clipped.

“Then why do you seem upset?”

His brow furrows. “I don’t like any of this. I wish you would just ignore him.”

“I can’t. I need to do this.” I withdraw my hand from his. “You need your support too. If you’re going to grumble about him every time we talk, I’ll just vent to Serena from now on.”

He shuts his eyes for a moment. “I’ll support you.”

“Good,” I say quickly, not giving him a chance to give me a “but”. “Tomorrow is my next one-on-one date with him, and Tristan won’t tell me what we’re doing. He says it’s a surprise. I need you to help me figure out how to use this opportunity to seduce him.”

He looks like he wants to roll his eyes, but he wisely stops himself. “You should be mean to him. That’s what you’ve been doing, and it’s clearly working.”

I shake my head sharply. “If I’m going to sleep with him, I need to start getting more touchy.”

Cody’s nostrils flare. “I’m going to be sick.”

I shoot him a stern look. “What did I just say, Cody? Keep it to yourself, or I tell you nothing.”

He stands up from the table and tosses his coffee cup in the trash. “I can’t do this. I need space from you for a little while. At least until this whole Tristan thing is over.”

My stomach hollows out. Cody has never asked for space before.

“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice shaky. “Is there something…”

Fuck, I can’t ask him if there’s something he wants to tell me. What if he tells me that there’s something to my suspicions that he has feelings for me? But it doesn’t really make sense. Why would this thing with Tristan be the catalyst after three years of close friendship? He was cool with Derek—my boyfriend of about a month during freshman year.

Or was he? He never really liked Derek, though he didn’t loathe him like he does Tristan. But he did seem a little…relieved when I broke it off.

Cody stares at me with his jaw set, and I try to push the words from my mouth, but they won’t come out.

I hate that I’m such a coward. If he has feelings for me, we need to talk about it. Even if it means the end of our friendship. If he does have tender feelings for me, I can’t return them. He’s like family to me.

“You’ll be okay without me for a while,” he says. “You have Serena. You have…” His nostrils flare. “You have Tristan.”

With that, he turns around and walks out of the coffee shop.

Tears hover behind my eyes. Fuck, this is hard.

I have two weeks left of this damn game. I wish it were all over now. Except I don’t want that. I like spending time with Tristan, and I hate myself for it.

I lower my head, and a tear falls from my chin to the wooden table.

Why did I decide to go through with my revenge plan? I knew it would wreak havoc on my emotions. What makes me so determined to take Tristan down?

It’s been six years since Harper rejected me, and here I am still acting like a teenage girl trying to prove that I’m invincible. That I don’t have feelings.

I don’t know how to make it stop. The thought of letting Tristan see that I’m soft makes me want to curl into a ball and hide away from the whole world.

***

Tristan

The camera crew follows us as we walk through the glass double doors. Amy’s little hand is locked in mine, and exhilaration pumps through my veins. She’s going to love this date. She’s going to feel how special she is compared to the other contestants.

I’ll make sure of it.

The scent of leather and perfume hits my nose as we walk through the department store. My heart races as we step into the elevator.

“Are we going to a restaurant?” she asks, her brow furrowed.

I smile. “Nope. The top floor has a private shop. You’re going to give me a fashion show and pick anything you want to buy.”

She tucks a strand of dark hair behind her ear, and I find myself missing the purple. This color is gorgeous on her, of course. Any color would look gorgeous on her. But I miss the days when she felt like she belonged to only me.

No other guys seemed to notice her before—other than that dirtbag Cody—but now her style is what most people find conventionally attractive. She’s started wearing clothes that show off her body, like the tank top she’s wearing now, when she used to wear baggy T-shirts and sweaters. Her eyes are huge and prominent now, when her big glasses used to take up her whole face.

She looks beautiful, but she was beautiful before. I must be a possessive dick. I should be happy that other people now see what I always saw.

Instead, it makes me anxious.

I chose this date to ward off the anxiety. I don’t want her to think I’m trying to hide her away. Once she’s mine—which she will be by the end of the game, damn it—I’ll have no reason to be anxious.

“That sounds expensive,” Amy says. “What kind of sponsor did they get for this date?”

I lean in and kiss her soft cheek. She doesn’t pull away, which makes my stomach flip over.

She’s warming up to me.

“My mom’s agency sponsored this one. Since they don’t really do advertising—Hollywood agents don’t really need it—she let me choose the event.”

Her eyes widen. “Wow. It must be nice to be rich.”

I laugh, squeezing her hand. “You get to be rich today. I mean it when I say you can pick whatever you want. No budget.”

“Seriously?” She looks at me, her eyes sparkling with disbelief.

“Absolutely.” I’m unable to keep the grin off my face. “I wanted to do something memorable. Something never done in this competition. Plus…” I smirk, glancing at her dark hair. “I noticed you’ve gotten more into fashion lately.”

She lifts her chin, her eyes flashing. God, she’s so cute. She was probably trying to make me jealous with her whole makeover thing.

I am jealous. She knows me well.

As we exit the elevator and enter the private shop, Amy’s eyes grow huge. The vaulted ceiling has a large, sparkling chandelier hanging from it, and the area is covered in tidy racks of clothes. The store attendant greets us with a smile, delivering whatever speech the film crew must have fed her.

The director tells us to pretend like the crew isn’t there, and he assures Amy that they won’t come into the dressing room unless she invites them.

It doesn’t soothe her. She’s biting that full bottom lip, her eyes wide as she glances around the racks of clothes.

“Don’t be shy,” I say. “The whole store is yours if you want it.”

“Okay.” She walks over to a rack of clothes and brushes her fingers over a blue dress.

“I love blue on you,” I say.

Her head jerks in my direction, skepticism spreading over her features. “You’re just saying that.”

I walk over to her, lean down, and brush my lips over her cheek. “No, I’m not. You wore blue on our first one-on-one. It makes your eyes sparkle.”

Her expression grows hesitant, as if she doesn’t believe me. She glances back at the blue dress and stares at it for a moment before taking it off the rack. “I guess I’ll go try it on.”

It sounds like a question, and I lean forward once again. This time, I give her a hard kiss. “I hope you don’t mind if I wait outside for you to show me,” I whisper.

She looks up at me, her eyes widening. She stares at me for a moment before shyly nodding, and my heart squeezes in my chest.

A few weeks ago, she would have never modeled dresses for me. She wouldn’t have trusted me enough. The progress I’ve made with her is as heady as a drug, and I can only hope the euphoric effects of her warmth will fade after I get plenty more of it over the next few months.

I can’t have incidents like the one a few nights ago. Pinning someone against a wall for a stupid, teasing comment is unhinged behavior, even when it comes to Amy. Back in high school, my jealousy only made me petty. I’d stalk her Instagram and the profiles of any guys who showed the slightest interest in her. I’d congratulate myself for being better looking than any of them and way better at football like the cocky bastard I was. But I never allowed myself to act on my jealousy back then. I didn’t want her to know I was obsessed.

Lately, it’s like I’m beyond caring.

“You’ll tell me if it doesn’t look good?” Amy whispers, her eyes scanning the blue dress. The vulnerability in her gaze hits me like a wave, and I find myself wanting to protect her, to make her feel safe.

“I’ll be honest,” I tell her, my voice softening. “But I’m biased. I like the way you look in pretty much everything.” I wish I could tell her that I’m dying to see her without anything on, but now isn’t the time. Not with the film crew hovering around us.

I’ll save that for when we’re alone.

Amy disappears into the fitting room, and I wander over to the couch just outside. Victory pumps through my veins. I never thought I’d be here, waiting for my little Amelia to try on a dress for me.

This was the right move. I’m getting everything I wanted from her in high school. The intimacy I always craved.

When she emerges from the fitting room, she’s wearing the blue dress, and it looks just as good as I thought it would. It hits her curves in all the right places, and the blue makes her eyes look like they have a lightbulb behind them.

“Wow,” I mutter. “You look incredible.”

That hesitance creeps into her face once again, so I launch from my seat and walk over to her. I reach out and gently run my fingers down her cheek. “But don’t take my word for it. Get whatever you like. Go crazy. Buy the whole store if you want.”

She shoots me an assessing look before her eyes flash with something mischievous. Does she think I don’t mean it? That I’ll balk if she picks out too many outfits?

Bring it on, Amelia. Let me show you just what it will be like if you let me have you. I’ll buy you the whole damn world. I’ll shower you with kisses. Let me show you what it means to be mine and only mine.

This is only the beginning.

Amy

Fuck, he’s getting into my head again, and I don’t like it.

He’s never had a date like this with any of the past contestants. The amount of money this date must cost his parents is a red flag.

He’s manipulating me, making me feel special.

But why does he have to seem so damn sincere? His gentle voice combined with the adoring looks he’s giving me is making my stomach flutter against my will.

I need to use this to my advantage. When I decided on a makeover, I kept clothes out of the equation. I can’t spend my money so frivolously, no matter how determined I am to take Tristan down.

He said I can buy the whole store, and by God, I’m going to do it. I’m going to spend a fortune.

I know his parents are wealthy, but he probably doesn’t expect me to spend more than a few hundred.

I’ll spend at least five K if it’s the last thing I do. That’s the amount of the betting pool according to Nick. Since Tristan is going to win the bet no matter what—determined as I am to sleep with him and then ditch him—I’ll make sure I clean his family out of that money beforehand and then some.

“Alright, let’s do this,” I say, and Tristan smiles. He has no idea what he’s in for.

I grab an outfit from every single rack, pausing only to find my size. A few minutes later, the heavy load of cloth drags on the floor as I make my way to the dressing room. One of the camera guys has huge eyes, and he’s staring at Tristan, probably waiting for him to tell me he was exaggerating when he said I could buy the whole store.

“Wait,” Tristan says, and a slow smile spreads over my face. He’s about to tell me that he didn’t mean it literally, that I can’t actually take all of this home.

He walks over to me and removes the clothes from each of my hands. “It’ll take you forever to try all of that on, and I have something planned.” He looks around the store until he spots the store attendant. “Would you mind ringing all these up?” he calls out.

My skin heats. “What are you doing?”

He turns to me, smiling. “If there’s anything you don’t like when you try it all on, you can exchange or return and get a refund.”

My mouth drops open. “This place is expensive. That was probably thousands of dollars’ worth of stuff.”

He shrugs. “Like I said, no budget. Now how about we do this.” An almost boyish grin spreads over his face. “How about you let me choose one thing for you to try on for me.”

I lower my eyes to the tile floor. “Um…okay.”

His hand grazes my cheek. “I’ve always wanted to see you in a red dress. You never wear bright colors. Here—” he walks a few feet away and grabs a red dress from the rack “—I saw this earlier.” His voice grows husky. “I’d love for you to try it on for me.”

He emphasizes the words “for me” and my tummy does a little flip. “Okay,” I say in a small voice.

His expression softens. “It’s just for fun. You don’t have to get it if you hate it.”

“I’m not letting the camera crew inside the dressing room for this one.”

He scowls. “Fuck no, you’re not. This is for me. Not the whole damn campus.”

Heat unfurls in my belly. I hate that his possessiveness turns me on.

I grab the dress from his hand and walk to the dressing room. I can do this. I’ve already tried on a dress for him.

But not like this one. This dress is going to show every inch of my skin.

I’ve done it once, so why is it so hard this time?

Maybe because this dress is just for Tristan, and something about that idea makes me dizzy. It feels like we’re a real couple.

A moment later, I’m in the dressing room trying to pull the dress over my thick body. It’s so tight, I have to hop up and down to get it over my big ass. When I finally pull the straps onto my arms, I find I have a real problem.

I stretch my arm as far over my back as I can to grab the zipper, making my shoulder pop.

“Hey, Tristan?” I call out.

“Yes?” he answers immediately.

“Can you help me zip it up?”

He’s quiet for a moment, but when he finally responds, the huskiness in his voice sends a shiver down my spine. “I’d be honored.”

When I open the dressing room door, he immediately walks inside. His pretty blue eyes roam my body as if they’re hungry for me, which makes me hot everywhere.

He stands behind me but doesn’t move to zip up my dress right away. In the mirror, I see his mouth move to my ear. “Can I take it off instead? The camera crew won’t know.”

“No!” I squeal, hating myself for how childish I sound. He was probably only kidding. “Zip it up. Now.”

He chuckles as his hands drop to the small of my back. He takes his sweet time zipping it up, his fingers touching my back as he pulls the clasp to the top.

“Damn, Amy,” he says, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “You’re only allowed to wear this dress around me, okay?”

I snort. “No. I’ll be wearing this dress wherever the fuck I want.”

He bursts into laughter, and something about the deep rumble makes me laugh too. When his chuckles finally subside, his mouth returns to my ear. “Someday I’ll have the pleasure of spanking you for that sassy mouth.”

My tummy fills with liquid heat, and as if my feet have a will of their own, they turn me around to face Tristan. His eyes widen minutely before I bring my mouth to his neck and place a small kiss on his tan skin.

“Oh fuck, Amy,” he whispers. “I need more. Let’s go to my house after this.”

My belly catches fire. I can’t go to his house right now. He’s turning me on too much with his worshipful looks, and I’d probably be tempted to sleep with him.

Not yet. I’ll get my final revenge just before the closing ceremony of the game.

Right before he gets the chance to execute whatever plan he’s brewing.

A slow smile spreads over my face. “No. I need to write.” I flip around, trying my best to plant a severe expression on my face. “Now get out of here. I need to change back into my clothes. Why don’t you make yourself useful and find me some jewelry.”

He shoots me a devilish smile. “As you wish, my queen.”