Page 121 of Say Yes to the Nemesis

“Like what?”

She rises up on her toes and kisses me, soft and sweet and full of promise. It’s different from the desperate kiss in the storage closet. This one feels like a decision. Like a beginning.

When she pulls away, she’s smiling. “Like that.”

“That wasn’t stupid.”

“It was if someone sees us.”

I glance around the empty kitchen. We’re standing in the shadows by the refrigerator, mostly hidden from view even if someone did walk in. But she’s right. We’re taking a huge risk.

“We should probably go back to our rooms,” I say, even though it’s the last thing I want to do.

“Probably.”

But neither of us moves. We just stand there, holding each other in the dim light of the kitchen, pretending like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

“Ryan?”

“Yeah?”

“When this is all over, when the show wraps and the cameras go away… what happens then?”

It’s the question I’ve been avoiding, the one that keeps me awake at night. Because the truth is, I don’t know. My life is hockey and travel and a schedule that doesn’t leave room for much else. Wren deserves better than someone who’s gone half the year.

But looking at her now, seeing the hope and fear warring in her expression, I know I have to try. We have to try.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “But I want to find out.”

She nods, like that’s enough for now. Maybe it is. Maybe we don’t need to have all the answers tonight.

“I should go,” she whispers.

“I know.”

She starts to pull away but I catch her hand, threading our fingers together.

“Wren?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you couldn’t sleep.”

She smiles, the real one that makes her whole face light up. “Me too.”

I watch her walk away, disappearing into the shadows of the hallway. When I can’t see her anymore, I lean back against the counter and close my eyes.

Jay’s going to kill me. Elena’s going to spin this into a ratings monster. And I’d do it all again just to hear her say my name like that.

I’m in love with Jay’s little sister.

Somehow, miraculously, she might be in love with me, too. I can’t say it to her. Not yet. I don’t want to scare her off. But the truth is still wrapped around my heart, gripping it impossibly tight.

We’re completely screwed.

But for the first time in years, I don’t care. I just need her to keep looking at me like that.

thirty-three