Page 86 of Fever Dream
Relief courses through me as I type my response and mutter, “He’s not as bad as you make him out to be.”
Theo laughs at me right as Harvey starts to fuss. It draws his attention away, and I wince, realizing what I’ve just said out loud.
But when I look back up from my phone, it’s my mom and Winter who are both eyeing me up with matching quirked brows.
Looks like they heard me loud and clear.
CHAPTER 25
Emmett
ISTAND IN THEmiddle of The Ranch, watching the crew as they set up cameras for the episode. It smells like Lysol, and cheesy western-themed art hangs on the walls. The entire place is straight-up… cowboy cosplay.
Hell, the patrons are even dressed like it’s Halloween, though I’m sure the vast majority of them never stepped foot on a ranch in their lives. I can tell by their boots. Just a little too much polish, no lines in the leather from wear. Barely broken in. They attempt to act natural, like they’re just enjoying their night, while we set up in a cordoned area.
But mostly they gawk.
I pat myself on the back for not ruining The Sugar Saloon with this shit. The fact that I already fucking hate this place makes being here a little easier. But it doesn’t stop me from beating myself up for volunteering for this exercise in embarrassment.
It’s for the money, I remind myself again. Because that’s the only thing keeping me going at this point.
I groan and turn toward the bar, thinking a drink might help take the edge off.
Seeing that the drink special tonight is “Pornstar Shots” fills me with dread. And nausea. I turn away and see Dick Wad chatting with Teri. His loud laugh is like nails on a chalkboard—it’s the same one he’d hit me with when I confronted him about how my name got leaked.
I turn again. The women giggle from their rounded booth on the corner of the dance floor, shooting furtive glances my way. The kind that make me want to run until my legs give out.
I glance longingly at the front door, seriously considering my options. Ever since the news got wind of this, I’ve been dreading filming.
It’s for the money.
Then light slices through the dark bar as the door opens. Julia walks into The Ranch looking like she owns the fucking place. A denim dress paired with flat strappy sandals and those curls out in full force have me standing and staring with a dry mouth.
Because while I hate everything about this moment, I very much do not hate her.
Still, a part of me wishes she weren’t here, watching me do this thing. I wish I weren’t so damn tangled up over her.
But I am. And we’re both skirting the issue.
At the ice cream shop, I was immediately excited to see her. Then reality had sunk in. I’d immediately felt awkward ashell at our unexpected encounter and then covered for it by antagonizing her brother like a cocky teenager.
Overall, Julia Silva has me acting like a feral dog, and I’m at a loss for how to get myself back under control.
I never wanted this—I specifically never wanted to feel like this.
But I do. And it stresses me the fuck out.
I scrub a hand over my face, wiping the light dusting of perspiration from my forehead as Richard greets the table of daters. They all brighten at his approach, except Catherine, who eyes him as though he might be a secret serial killer.
And who knows? At this point I wouldn’t put it past the guy.
“So tonight…” He launches into how he wants the episode to play out, and I have to work to keep my eyes from rolling as I listen in on the directions he’s giving them. Jada must be on the same page because she glances over her shoulder at me before subtly lifting her hand and miming a dramatic yawn—clearly she’s hating this too. And it doesn’t surprise me at all that the women are figuring out that this might be the least organic dating show of all time. The women are coached and produced endlessly, and I’m awkward as hell in front of the cameras.
Plus, right now, all I can think about is Julia.
The scent of her perfume hits me as she approaches. My gaze trails the line of silver buttons climbing from the hemline of her dress to the neckline where the tops of her breasts swell subtly.
Images flash in my mind. My hand on her chest. My fingers making quick work of those buttons. Who am I kidding? Those look like too much work. I’d tug that dress up and get right to making her scream my name.
