Page 24 of Room 710 (The Scarlet Hotel #15)

Elijah

Week Seven

JELLOPALOOZA

BottomsUp: Nuf said, Drip. No judgment here. Welcome back!

RimJobbins: Did anyone else notice the challenge was cut short? Who won??

RainbowRob: I bet it was Ziggy. That dude is scrappy.

After finally claiming Ziggy in the bathroom, I found it even harder to leave the property.

Not because I thought something would happen to him if I left—though history had surely proven this lot of contestants were a catastrophe waiting to happen.

No, now it was just because it felt like ripping my heart out of my chest to be apart from him.

The mere thought made my skin clammy and my stomach churn.

Was this what love felt like? Or was it just obsession?

I imagined if my friends or family knew the full extent of what was going on in my head, they would probably tell me I needed to speak to a professional, but the thing was, I had no desire to cure myself of this addiction.

I told myself that if I could just cement our relationship, make it official, then I might be able to function more like a regular human being.

But before that could happen, I had one more task that needed to be done.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” I told Marc.

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t even bother to look at me as he leaned back in his chair.

I huffed. “You’ll call me if anything happens,” I said, not posing it like a question.

“Sure, whatever. They’re just playing some video games. They’re all adults. They can function unsupervised, you know. You don’t need me here to babysit. What could possibly happen in an hour?” He turned to give me a look full of skepticism.

I raised an eyebrow. “You say this after we’ve had two serious kitchen accidents in less than a month.

They almost burned the house down.” He opened his mouth to argue, probably about how unlikely it was to happen a third time, so I added, “For as long as they are in that house, they are our responsibility. The show’s reputation is already in danger.

Do you really want the bad press if something happens?

Is it worth risking your job ?” It was a thinly veiled threat, but it did the trick.

He sighed but agreed. “Fine, I will text you if anything happens.”

Nodding, I finally left the trailer. I squinted, the bright sunshine a shock to my system after being closed up for so long, and my limbs protested as I stretched.

I hadn’t been to the gym in over a month, and if I wanted to stay in shape for my younger omega, I would need to take care of my body.

I had a more important task today, though.

I had a doctor’s appointment to get a full workup done, in case Ziggy was serious about skipping condoms in the future. It had been ages since I’d been intimate with anyone, but I refused to take any risks with his safety. Better safe than sorry.

But was he serious about it? I knew better than to take what was said in the heat of passion as truth.

I’d said a few hasty things myself, though I meant them all straight down to my core.

But babies? It was way too soon for that…

right? Breeding kink was a thing, but that didn’t mean I wanted to use his words as an excuse to shackle him to me forever if that wasn’t what he really wanted.

The whole drive to the doctor’s office, my grip on the steering wheel was white-knuckled.

Sitting in the waiting room, my knee was bouncing as I checked my phone for the thousandth time for a text from Marc.

The whole time through my appointment with Dr. Zappek, I was urging him to talk faster.

And when the blood had finally been drawn by the lab tech, I ran straight back to my car and rushed home.

Well… not home, exactly. But Ziggy felt more like my home than the house where I stored my stuff.

I burst into the trailer, and Marc held his hand up to forestall any questions I might’ve had. “He’s fine. I’ve already queued up the video for you to watch what you missed.”

Clearing my throat, I smoothed my hair back and tried to stand tall. “Who do you mean?”

He just smirked, laughing to himself. “Sure, whatever, boss.” He pushed back from the desk and stood up. “I’m going to get lunch. You want anything?”

I sighed. “Sure, whatever you’re having. Thanks.” I appreciated him pretending he hadn’t seen me traipse back to the trailer wearing only a towel. He deserved a raise.

The final live challenge came in the form of a trivia contest, all the questions revolving around things Devon had revealed about himself over the past seven weeks—where he was from, his family’s names, his favorite foods, and childhood pets.

A lot of people rolled their eyes at the concept of a dating show.

They said it was scripted and was built for maximum chaos, and like a car crash, our viewers couldn’t seem to look away—but that wasn’t what we were doing at all.

Sure, there was drama, but our ultimate goal on Lonely Alpha wasn’t to induce some one-sided flirtation.

We aimed to forge true love, selecting contestants we thought would be compatible, even if it wasn’t always in the cards.

But we knew that if a relationship was going to last, it had to have a strong foundation of understanding, respect, and communication.

It meant caring enough about someone to listen when they spoke, and what better way to test this than to have them prove they were paying attention.

Rune, as catty as he was, answered every question right, as if he’d stayed up all night cramming for an exam, and it ensured his safety from eviction. We would all be forced to endure his smug, shit-eating grin for one more week.

I held my breath when it came time for Devon to announce his choice for eviction, anticipating it would be Ziggy.

I felt as giddy as a kid on Christmas morning.

I’d taken a shower, put on my best suit, and I was sucking on a breath mint, ready to sweep him into my arms the second he stepped through the door.

Not for one second did I think I would hear Devon say, “Darnell, I’m sorry.”

“What did he just say?!” I spat, launching to my feet. I had to have misheard. On the screen, Ziggy looked just as stunned as I did, jaw gaping and eyes unfocused.

Marc shook his head slowly, rolling his chair away like he thought I might take out my anger on him, which I would never. “He’s evicting Darnell,” he said quietly.

To add insult to injury, I was forced to spend the next minutes watching their tearful farewell, before Darnell fetched his packed bags and headed for the door.

“I’m going in there,” I said firmly, heading across the lawn. Marc made a half-hearted attempt to stop me, but he knew better than to get in my way. I was a man on a mission.

Darnell paused when he stepped outside and came face to face with me. His brown eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. He gave me this look full of pity, when he was the one leaving the show, and I hated it. “Sorry, big guy.”

“Me too,” I told him, my voice rough. We shared a moment of silence, neither of us where we wanted to be right now.

When I went to step past him, he put a hand on arm. “Maybe give him a few minutes. He and Prairie are talking.”

I sighed but forced myself to step back. As much as I wanted Ziggy in my arms, I had to respect what he needed. This wasn’t about me right now.

As livid as I might’ve been about Devon keeping Ziggy in the house, I calmed down after a few minutes of quiet.

I was an adult; I’d waited my whole life to meet Ziggy, I was sure we could handle another week.

For whatever reason, he wanted to see this show through, and I would respect his decision.

Whenever he was ready, I would be here for him. No pressure.

Meanwhile, the show’s ratings were through the roof! The fans adored Ziggy. I should’ve been happy, since the network had offered to renew for another season, along with discussions about a spinoff series. This was good news.

With the final three, came another set of interviews, so at least I would get a few minutes alone with him.

The next morning, I stepped into the vault to wait for him.

I was so nervous, you’d think I was going in for surgery or something.

When the house door cracked open, my heart stuttered in my chest and my breath caught in my lungs.

I’d dreamt about Ziggy so often, I swore I could draw him from memory, but then I saw him in person again and realized how wrong I was.

I could spend my whole life staring at his face and still find something new every time I looked at him.

Right now, I was close enough to see how long his lashes were, fanning over his cheeks with each blink.

“Hi,” he said shyly. He seemed scared to touch me, like he thought I might be mad at him.

I immediately stood and folded him into my arms. No matter how much I missed him, I would wait forever to be with him if I had to.

He melted into me, and I pressed my face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his crisp scent.

Touching him like this was confusing. He wanted me but not enough to give up Devon.

Was I kidding myself? Was I nothing more than a passing fling?

“Why don’t you have a seat so we can get this interview over with,” I said, forcing myself to take a step back.

“Oh. Okay.” He nodded and lowered into the chair across from me. His eyes darted to the camera, as if reminding himself that this was going to be recorded and aired on TV. Even when we were alone, it was never just the two of us.

Trying to still my churning thoughts, I looked down at the questions I’d printed up, staring so hard the words began to blur in front of me.

I’d planned this out, but instead of asking the bland, open-ended questions, I found myself blurting, “So, Ziggy… What kind of future do you think you could have with Devon? Do you really think he could make you happy?”

He had the nerve to roll his eyes. “Eli, don’t be ridiculous. You know I don’t have feelings for Devon. It’s not like I asked for him to keep me here.”

“But you haven’t left, either,” I snapped, promptly regretting it. I shook my head hard. “Please, forget I said that.”

“No, no, let’s talk about it.” Ziggy scooted forward and grabbed my hand across the table, eyes drilling into me as though imploring me to believe him.

“I’ve thought about leaving a hundred times, but I keep telling myself that it’s just a few more days before I’ll get sent home.

And then it turns into another week and another. ”

“Devon’s a smart guy. There’s no way he would let someone like you slip away.

So, what are you going to say when he proposes to you then?

I don’t like to share.” Even as I said it, I knew I would share if I had to, if it was the only way I could have him.

“Don’t tease me, Ziggy. I’m a desperate man here. ”

He scoffed, bolting up from his chair. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

“What are you talking about? What was a mistake?” Stomach acid burned the back of my throat. He couldn’t mean me , right?

He was shaking his head, already headed for the door, and I itched to stop him. “We should’ve waited for the show to be over to start something. You don’t trust me, and I mean, I get it. You don’t even know me that well.”

“I do!” I shouted in a panic, but he was already leaving, hand on the doorknob. My heart was in my throat. I felt like if he walked through that door, that would be it. I would lose him. “Please! I do trust you, Ziggy!”

He paused and looked back at me. He smiled at me, his eyes glassy. “Okay, then trust me when I say we’ll be together soon. And I promise you won’t have to share. The rest, we’ll figure out once I’m out of this house and we can talk properly. Without an audience.”

I sighed, shaking my head. I felt like I was being tested.

On the show, we promoted all these values that should go into a long-lasting relationship, and trust was right up there at the top.

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder, I guess,” I said, the ultimate cliché, though at this point, I wasn’t sure how much fonder of him I could grow.

I was head over heels in love with this man.

I probably should’ve passed Devon’s interview off to someone less biased, but I wanted to look him in the eye when I asked my questions.

There was plenty of tension as I worked through the list of standard questions about how he was doing at this stage of the game. I stared him straight in the eye, alpha to alpha.

“So, final three omegas… but you must have someone in mind as the winner already, right?” I forced myself to ask, though in truth, his answer might mean the difference between whether he would walk out of here… or crawl .

He leaned forward to prop his elbow on his knees and leveled me with a look I couldn’t interpret.

“True love takes time,” he said, his words full of cryptic meaning, “and it takes patience. It’s about learning everything about a person—their strengths and their weaknesses—and falling in love with them over and over again, knowing you can live without them but choosing not to.

” He smiled then and leaned back, relaxed as could be.

“I do have a winner in mind, but I’m not telling who just yet.

I will say that I think the show’s finale will the most dramatic the fans have seen yet. ”

Dash Patterson Ross Walters Alex Clement Costas Layton Stuart Lee Garfield Basso Abraham McNeal Rune Cochrane Cy Adler Darnell Sawyer Prairie Donoghue Ziggy Goff