Page 49 of Reality With You (Arden Beach #1)

L ennon furiously scrubbed her face with a thick lather until her skin burned.

A splash of cold water numbed it. She swiped a hand through the steam on the mirror where red, tired eyes stared back.

She’d washed her hair, scrubbed every inch of her body, but couldn’t rid herself of the gross feeling that clung to her.

An extra toothbrush sat beside the sink.

Dylan was probably halfway to the Panhandle by now.

Watching him walk out the door had physically hurt, knowing how far away he’d be and how long he’d be gone.

Lennon was still raw. She’d barely slept last night, jerking awake at the slightest sound or movement.

The doctor assured her he’d be fine, but it reminded her too much of the night of the boat accident. Then, she’d been helpless in another state. Now, she felt helpless lying right next to him. And partially responsible.

Regret ate at her. Lennon wished she hadn’t gone off with Tana at the party. That their conversation in the bathroom had gone differently. That she hadn’t been so wrapped up in the damn cameras—the damn game.

The whole thing made her sick.

She’d almost lost him. Again.

Carol Anne left a few messages, trying to lure them back to the mansion. Lennon hadn’t bothered to respond. She would have only made it worse with what she wanted to say.

Wrapped in a towel, she padded out to the bedroom’s cool air as she combed through her wet hair.

Sunlight cutting through the shutters tinted the room blue as day slipped toward night.

Even with such a clear marker, time blurred, as if stuck in an endless dream.

A pile of freshly washed linens sat in the middle of the bare mattress.

She recalled Dylan lying on it, covered in sweat, an older man with a grey beard and age spots on the crown of his head feeding an IV into one of his veins.

The memory morphed into him lying under Kelsey.

Rage burned through her anew.

A white shirt folded on the dresser caught Lennon’s eye.

Her heart softened at the Arden Beach University logo, glad he hadn’t taken it back.

She took a step toward it but stopped when her phone rang from the bedside table.

She hoped it was Dylan checking in, but Avery’s name lit up the screen instead. She quickly answered. “Avery—hey.”

“Hey, Lennon,” Avery said, her voice soft and sluggish. “I’ve been so worried. I texted you back and tried calling earlier. I didn’t know you’d left until this morning.”

“Sorry, I put my phone on ‘do not disturb.’” She’d texted Avery to check in on her since she knew the cameras would be there during the day but then silenced it when Carol Anne kept hounding her.

Until Dylan had left, only calls from Erin could get through.

“How are you?” Lennon sat on the edge of the mattress.

“Exhausted. Last night was … a lot.”

That was the understatement of the fucking year.

“Are you OK?” Lennon asked.

“Yeah. My pride’s just a little scraped up.”

“You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about.”

“I let my fiance’s ex get to me at my bachelorette party,” Avery remarked tightly. “That’s pretty embarrassing.”

“Kelsey shouldn’t have invited her, knowing how it would make you feel. It was supposed to be your night.”

“I get why she did it. She was trying to help,” Avery reasoned. Her commitment to diplomacy was getting old. How could no one else see how toxic and manipulative Kelsey was? “I appreciate what you did for me. You saved me from mortifying myself further.”

Lennon dragged the pad of her thumb over the comb’s plastic teeth, her stomach twisting in a knot. “I wanted to ask you about that. Do you think someone may have spiked your drink?”

“What? No,” Avery said, her laugh sounding a little nervous.

“Are you sure? You were pretty out of it … . I’ve never seen you like that before.”

Avery went quiet for a few seconds, almost long enough to make Lennon wonder if the call had disconnected, until she heard a soft sigh.

“I had … way too many shots. I got it in my head—” The forced levity dropped from her voice.

“I wanted to make Chad jealous. I don’t know what I was thinking. It was stupid.”

A mix of surprise and relief settled on Lennon.

She was glad Avery hadn’t been a victim of anything but her own choices, but it would have been easier to make a case for Dylan with someone else to back up his experience.

What if no one came forward for the same reasons as Dylan?

What if he was right and whoever did this had been careful to cover their tracks?

“So … how are you?” Avery asked, gently if not a little unsteady. “Kelsey told me what happened between her and Dylan.”

Lennon’s gut twinged. “What exactly did she tell you?”

“That they hooked up. Or at least, they were about to when you walked in.”

Shock and rage hit her with such force that Lennon couldn’t speak for a moment. When she finally found her voice, it was cold. “That’s not what happened.”

“Look, why don’t you come back to the mansion?” Avery offered, sounding a little uncomfortable. Her voice changed, almost like someone had walked into the room. Or had already been there. “I think it’d be better to talk about everything in person.”

The cold suddenly permeated Lennon’s skin, raising the hair on her arms. “You’re still there?” Water from her hair slowly crept down her spine. “Are they filming you right now?”

“Yeah,” Avery answered weakly—a tinge of guilt in it. Lennon’s stomach sank. “We’re shooting all day, remember?”

Lennon wedged her lower lip between her teeth, inwardly cursing Avery and herself and this stupid fucking show.

“I’m sorry, Lennon. I assumed you knew—” Avery stammered out, but Lennon ended the call before she finished her sentence.

Silence fell around her. She held the phone in her hand like it was a bomb she’d deactivated at the one-second mark.

Lennon couldn’t escape being watched, not even in her apartment. Not even when she thought she was having a private conversation with a friend.

She would have to start questioning everything. The way Dylan did.

How could she live the rest of her life like this?

When someone knocked on the door, Lennon was curled up on the sofa, deep in the clutches of a nap.

She peeled her eyes open at her cold, half-empty cup of coffee and empty plate on the table, RuPaul’s Drag Race playing on the television behind it.

Since the party, she hadn’t left her apartment.

The last few days had blended together in a sort of fever dream.

Every time she considered leaving, even to get groceries, the anxiety of being observed by strangers held her hostage.

With the blinds shut, she had no idea how long she’d been asleep, only that there was still daylight. She lifted her head, squinting at the clock on her phone. 2:18 p.m.

Lennon dragged herself to the door with her blanket around her shoulders, yawning, and peeked through the peephole. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. She quickly unlocked and swung the door open. “Holy shit. Am I dreaming?”

Clad in a light, cropped cardigan and high-waisted jeans, Erin grinned at her from under a messy bun. “Nope. Go get dressed. I’m dragging you out of your sad girl cave and taking you on a date.”

After some convincing, which sounded more like threatening at times, Lennon pulled herself together, throwing on something other than her pajamas for the first time in three days.

They hopped into Erin’s white, two-seat convertible and took a ride a few blocks over to the coast. Being with her best friend as sunbeams bathed her skin and the scent of saltwater blew through her hair was enough to pierce through some of the dark clouds hanging around her heart.

The Tidebreakers were still on the other side of the country, but Erin told her she’d taken the first flight out that morning. “How’d you manage to get away from the team?” Lennon asked over the roar of the wind, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear that had escaped her ponytail.

“I told them I had a family emergency. I’ve never even taken a sick day, so they didn’t give me any pushback.

Cheyenne can handle it,” Erin yelled back, referring to the team’s lead physical therapist. Cheyenne was expected to retire soon, so the plan was for Erin, the assistant physical therapist, to take her place once she completed all the required classes, hours of on-the-job training, and board exams. When she wasn’t working, she was usually busy with her studies.

“What did Rhett say about what happened?”

“Nothing because he doesn’t know.”

“What does he think is the emergency?”

“I’m here for you, silly.” Erin bumped Lennon’s elbow where it rested on the console between them, her white sunglasses briefly turning to her as blonde hair whipped around them.

Emotionally raw as she was, Lennon nearly teared up.

“I told him you were going through a rough patch and needed support. Obviously, I’m worried about Dylan, too.

We video chatted when I landed, and I’m going to drive up to see him tomorrow with the excuse of a PT check-in. ”

“I can’t believe no one else has come forward,” Lennon said. Dylan’s investigation had so far come up empty, and he was still waiting to hear if his lawyers had made any headway with the studio. Every day that went by took another shred of hope with it.

“He got the test results back this morning.” Erin’s hands tensed around the wheel. “It was Xamberal. The same thing Craig was on when he crashed the boat.”

Lennon’s stomach bottomed out. “Fuck,” she exhaled.

She propped her elbow on the door, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“He probably did get it by mistake. That’s why no one’s saying anything.

They don’t want to get caught.” And if they didn’t find solid proof his drink was spiked, no one was going to believe he didn’t take it on purpose, too.

He was almost certainly screwed.