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vivianna
After my pathetic moment the day prior, I’m more or less back to normal once the next day rolls around.
I don’t expect to wake up, Griffin’s arm flung over my stomach, still holding me, and his face buried into the pillow. He was perfect last evening, in the way he held me, in the way he just let me talk and rant, even though I can’t imagine he really wanted to hear about how my ex still affects me today.
Zander’s actions last night were definitely intentional, to remind me that I was never special, to let me know that I could be discarded and replaced. And largely, of course, to woo the audience in a desperate effort to keep himself and Imogen placed well.
No better timing than the night before the next results are finalized, allowing the scene to be fresh in viewers’ heads.
When I wake up, I’m still in a halter top and skirt and Griffin is still in a crewneck and jeans, both outfits that we never actually ended up wearing out to dinner, as was initially planned. When a loud yawn is drawn out of Griffin and he fidgets, eyes blinking open, I find my fingers running through his hair.
He groans, turning toward me and giving me a sleepy smile. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I say back. A pause. “Thanks for last night. I didn’t mean to be that dramatic.”
“You’re not dramatic,” he says. “Do I need to shake you to get the point across or what?”
I hide a smile. “Anyway. Results are out today.”
Griffin nods, nose close enough to brush mine. He pulls out his phone, showing me the current rankings. Griffin and I still lead in votes, but Imogen and Zander are fast approaching after Zander’s Big Romantic Gesture last night. Not only that, but the gap between them and Brody and Esme is significantly larger.
I don’t exactly know how Brody and Esme will make up that distance by the end of the day, if they do. My eyes flick up to the ceiling and Griff puts his phone away, rising up to his feet and extending a hand toward me, changing the subject.
“It’s gonna be a long day. How do you feel about coffee?”
I take his hand in mine, rubbing my half-asleep eyes with my free one.
“Coffee it is.”
***
We return back upstairs after coffee and bland conversation with our fellow competitors, pointedly avoiding discussing last night, even as Imogen flaunts and plays with the promise ring.
“How do you think we’ll do for results today?” I ask Griff, arms folded in front of me.
“Vivi.”
“Griff.”
“We’ll be fine.” He’s smiling, all teeth.
“Okay, well, what’re we doing today? Because I’m a little anxious, in case you haven’t noticed. I was figuring we come up with a game plan just so that everything’s—”
He cups my face with a hand and my words fall silent. His eyes find mine, lips tilt upward, then he’s kissing me. Again. After what felt like forever. But my lips remember his, and my body completely responds to him, my arms around his neck, my head tilted back so he can deepen the kiss, my back pressed against the wall.
“How’s that for a game plan?” Griffin asks, pulling back.
“Really great,” I nod. “But just to make sure, I think you should do it again.” We’re breaking our unspoken rule, but I couldn’t care less.
I look up at him, shy. He’s beautiful, really. His strong jaw, his pronounced nose, his parted mouth. I’m a nervous wreck all over again.
His eyes glint with satisfaction. It’s dangerous for someone to distract me so easily. What were we talking about again? He flips us around, taking steps forward so I’m forced to walk backward until I’m falling against the bed.
He doesn’t waste time before crawling over me, eyes always on me in that constant dizzying attention he awards me, even though I haven’t worked for it. Like I don’t have to work for it.
He kisses me, nibbles at the skin of my jaw and my exposed shoulders and the space right under my ear that’s so tender I almost have to scream. And he knows the effect he has on me, with that devious glint in his eyes only getting more mischievous, with the kisses only getting slower and softer.
“Be a little rough,” I demand, and he laughs against my skin but follows suit.
My hands glide up his shirt, over those tattoos. I can feel his smile against my lips, and it’s all I can do to avoid melting, to avoid losing all composure.
He’s impossibly attractive hovering over me, hair falling over his face. I push the loose waves back behind his ear. He leans into my hand, and then trails his kisses up from my neck to my lips once more. .”
And it’s mid-kiss when we hear a knocking on our door and freeze, Griff’s eyes amused as I fail to conceal a groan.
“What is it?” I ask.
“We’re going to the beach!” Esme’s muffled voice comes from the other end. “No bailing this time, I’m begging you.”
“Fine,” I say. “We’ll be out in a bit.”
“See you there!”
My eyes find Griffin, and he’s raising an eyebrow. “We’ll be out in a bit?”
“We will be out in a bit.”
***
We weren’t out in a bit. Turns out, Griffin is very distracting and when he’s not kissing me, I sort of want him to be doing so. As a result, we arrive at the beach an hour and a half late, and it’s all I can do to ignore Esme’s pointed smirk in the background, adjusting my curls over the bruises on my neck as Brody suggests we all play some Frisbee.
No one talks about the live polls, or the fact that Brody and Esme are lagging further behind than ever before.
We play Ultimate for a while then head down to the beach bar to whip up our cocktails and remix in random teams. Teams that involve considerably less talking when either Griff or I are paired with Zander or Imogen and we ignore Imogen’s shiny birthstone ring as we eat burgers.
Someone finds a retro-style boombox and starts blasting random 80’s hits and reggaeton. Esme pulls me into a dance, which I know is going to be our last for the remainder of this competition. But it’s fun while it lasts, bumping hips together and attempting to square dance and laughing hysterically when we fail. Imogen and Zander dance together, with a practiced ease that never came to Zander whenever I begged him to dance. But blissfully, I don’t let the scene sting today, and when Esme stalks off to Brody for what she describes as the “obligatory” dance in a last-ditch effort to save their place, I’m already motioning for Griffin who’s seated on a bar stool to stand up and dance with me.
He rolls his eyes as I mimic roping him close, doing a little hop and step, shoulders beginning to move up and down as he approaches me. We do a little dance, back and forth. He twirls me, I twirl him. Our bodies move in a sync we attain once we’ve gotten the hang of things and the sun sets, bringing us closer and closer to the finalized results.
And as all good things do, the music fades away, our hosts strutting into the beach to announce our fate.
When the clock hits six, we gather around. I’m sandwiched between Esme and Griffin, grasping both hands. Esme presses sun-bleached waves against my shoulder as we wait.
Finally, Philip Amador exhales a breath and announces the polls.
“In first place...”
Griffin squeezes my hand tight. We haven’t checked polls since this morning, when we were just ahead of Imogen and Zander. But that gesture had to work wonders, and I imagine their votes have only been skyrocketing since last night. They could be first. All our work, and we could be losing, even if we’re making it to the finals.
“With 37% of the vote, we have...”
My heart starts beating, and it’s just a stupid competition, but it’s a stupid competition with 100K on the line.
Breathe in, breathe out.
“Vivianna and Griffin.”
I bend down, finally able to catch my breath, and Esme hugs me tight, Griffin letting out a whoop. It’s a 3 percent decrease from this time yesterday, but I’ll take it.
“With an unbelievably close 35% of the vote—and a 5% increase from yesterday morning— we have...”
Esme smiles, shaking her head, finally having come to terms with it all.
“Zander and Imogen.”
The two kiss, then hug.
Esme nods. Brody looks down at the ground, hands on his hips.
“I’m sorry,” I say, letting go of Griffin to hug her.
“Yeah, yeah.” Esme says, shrugging. “We weren’t going to make it anyway. After the incident.” She pulls back, smirking, then whispers. “Look on the bright side, at least I got clout.”
“Esme.”
“No seriously, brands have been emailing me non-stop within the past few weeks. I’m just excited for what’s next.” Esme’s eyes are sparkling, whether with her excitement or her disappointment, I can’t tell. Maybe both.
She pulls me into another hug, which I’m starting to think is excessive, even for her, but then she holds my head close and whispers, “I’m gonna be watching. Please do me a favor and win this thing.”
With that, she pulls back for good, thanking the hosts for having her and nodding at Brody, so that both can get their things with one last wave.
“Damn,” I say.
“Damn,” Griffin echoes.
I lean into him as the hosts congratulate us on making it to the final round. Our next challenge will be a week from now, and according to Mila, “it’s going to be big”. The last challenge always is, and only one couple will be walking out of here with 100K. While Griffin and I have been somewhat distracted lately, Imogen and Zander have been dead-focused, every move deliberate. They never forgot why they signed up for this show.
A few feet away, Imogen gives me a little wave, unsuccessfully trying to hide her smirk. They’re creeping up on us now, and this final competition will make or break it.
I don’t return the wave but exhale a long breath.
Let the games begin.