Page 21 of Playing With My Heart Strings

I shush her, subtly eyeing the other girls in the room.

For a moment, I hesitate, wondering if telling Sage the truth is the best idea, but it’s already too late and my reaction gave me away.

“We kissed.” My voice is barely above a whisper.

I’m very aware of the fact that there are producers everywhere, and microphones and cameras could be hidden anywhere in this room.

“Oh. My. God.” She gasps, her voice a bit too loud for comfort. “I need all of the details!”

“Sage!” I hiss. “I’m trying to keep it on the down low. I don’t need more of a target on my back.” I come up with an excuse. There’s no way she would know that we didn’t kiss on camera, but I can’t risk anyone else overhearing our conversation.

“Shit, sorry, Baylor. I didn’t even think about that. You’ll tell me later, though, right?”

I let out a breath before nodding slowly. “You have to promise me you won’t say anything.”

She holds out a pinky. “I swear. You can trust me, I promise.”

Interlacing my pinky finger with hers, I give her a small smile. But the moment is cut short when a producer bursts into the room.

“Ladies, we’re nearing the end of the episode. If I call your name, please follow me.” Whatever energy was in the air before is immediately sucked out with his announcement and the room falls silent. “Jordan.”

Jordan’s head drops, and her eyes glisten. I feel sorry for her; being at risk two weeks in a row must be tanking her confidence. And I have a feeling she won’t be getting saved this time as the producer calls out Abigail’s name.

“Finally, Sage.”

My head whips toward Sage, and my mouth gapes. She bites her lip as her chest rises and falls.

“See you, Baylor.” She gives me a look of apprehensiveness before she gets up and follows the producer and the other girls out of the room.

Once the door shuts, the room stays silent for a few moments before someone starts clapping in a slow rhythm, the sound echoing in the room.

“Well, well, well. America’s Sweetheart lives to see another day.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not sure why you’re so surprised. Contrary to what you think, I do have a connection with Dusty.”

Katherine opens her mouth like she wants to cut in and break up whatever is going on, but Aspen beats her to it.

“I’m just surprised, is all. Last week, you hardly seemed interested in being here, much less being in a relationship with him. I find it hard to believe that the producers would want someone with such a…detachment to continue every week.”

There’s an insinuation behind her voice, one I’m afraid to address. If any of the girls were about to defend me, they aren’t jumping to do it now, all of them pausing like they’re waiting to hear what my response is.

“So, why is it you’re still here, Baylor?” Aspen crosses her arms, tapping her foot in impatience as she waits for me to answer.

The silence and tension in the room is so thick it could be cut with a butterknife as everyone waits for what I’m about to say.

I could defend myself— should defend myself—but what good would it realistically do?

If Aspen has her suspicions about me, then she has her suspicions.

I doubt anything I could say would change her mind.

In fact, I think biting back would make her more suspicious, like I’m trying to cover something up.

I settle for repeating the same thing I told her earlier. “I’m still here because, like I said, I have a connection with Dusty. He obviously wouldn’t send someone who he has a connection with home.”

“Wouldn’t he, though?” she challenges. “Isn’t that the point? He’s forming connections with everyone here. I wouldn’t go so far as to say he doesn’t have a connection with Abigail or Jordan or Sage, would you?”

“I mean, yeah, but it’s about the strength of the connection. I could ask you the same thing about why you’re still here. If I recall correctly, you didn’t seem very interested in the axe-throwing date either.”

“Yeah, because I wasn’t interested in axe-throwing. It wasn’t because I’m not interested in him.” She rolls her eyes but quickly gets back to her interrogation. “So, you do think your connection with Dusty is strong and genuine. You’re not here because of, say, favoritism?” Her eyes narrow.

“That’s a big accusation,” Valerie cuts in.

“Yeah, but I need to hear her say it. Tell us you’re not only here because the producers want you to be here.”

I’m saved by the metaphorical bell as the door to the briefing room swings open and Sage enters the room. Her eyes are rimmed with red, but she gives us a small smile as Valerie, Katherine, and I rush over to her, like the heated conversation between me and Aspen never happened.

“I knew you’d be okay,” I reassure her as we all hug.

She lets out a small laugh. “I’ve never been so stressed in my life.”

“What happened this time? Was it the same as the first elimination?” Jade asks from behind me.

“It was similar, yeah. We had to answer a question about our relationship, but otherwise it was the same. Had to watch as the votes came in and everything,” Sage explains.

“I was honestly so scared I was going home. It was really close between me and Abigail. I’m sad to see both her and Jordan go. I wish we could all stay.”

We nod, silence filling the room before there’s another knock on the door. We weren’t expecting the producers to come back so soon, since—besides giving Jordan medical attention—they didn’t come back after the first elimination for about thirty minutes.

My head snaps toward the door as it swings open, revealing Dusty.

“Hi, ladies,” he greets. “I know you probably weren’t expecting me, but I just wanted to say hello and check in with you. I know these eliminations aren’t easy, but I hope being here is still worth it.” He stares at me while he says it, and heat rushes into my cheeks.

“That’s really sweet of you, Dusty,” Aspen chimes in, her voice sickeningly sweet compared to how she talks to us.

He lets out some kind of grunt as he nods. Then he clears his throat. “Um, Baylor, can I talk to you?”

I point to myself. “Me?” I know I sound shocked, but I’m unsure why he would want to talk to me in private, especially after an elimination. Has he found out? Am I being sent home, too?

He nods, but his expression isn’t stern or giving the impression of a serious conversation. He actually looks calm and collected, at peace almost.

I stand, smoothing my pants as I follow, feeling Aspen’s eyes burning into my back with each step.

Once we exit the room and the door slams shut, Dusty looks around then grabs my arm, yanking me into a darker hallway.

“What are you—” I stutter, but my question is cut short as he pushes me against the wall and his mouth collides with mine.

Butterflies rush into my stomach as I kiss him back, electricity teeming in my body.

“I needed to get you alone,” he mumbles against my mouth. “The other night wasn’t enough for me.”

“The other girls, though,” I whisper, turning my head to look down the hallway and make sure no one is around to catch us. Surely the consequences of someone seeing us together wouldn’t be worth a quick makeout session, as much as I love having his mouth against mine.

He grabs my chin, forcing me to turn my head back to face him. “No one’s around, Baylor. And I’m not worried about them, the other girls. You shouldn’t be either.”

What the hell does that mean?

My thoughts are interrupted as he presses his lips to mine again, and my senses overload with sandalwood and amber.

“Hey!” the voice of a producer booms from the other hallway, and we break apart. “Has anyone seen Dusty?”

“Go,” I hiss, practically shoving him away from me. But before he goes, he takes a long look at me. The sound of footsteps approaching finally encourages him to turn and rush away, leaving my heart pounding in my chest and my mind swarming.

What the fuck is happening?