Page 120 of You're The One
We’re only here for a little over a week. Three dates in three days before I have to—according to producers—send Summer home. Then it’s four days of suite dates. Overnight. Intimate. Which is exactly why I need to set Emma straight today. Whether Bodhi likes it or not.
“Okay.” She slips on her shoes and heads for the door. “Have a good date,” she calls over her shoulder.
I nearly trip over my own feet trying to catch her. “Hey! Hold on a second.”
She pauses with one hand on the door lever, facing away from me.
I step in, slide my arms around her shoulders, and gently turn her. “You’re really going to run off without saying goodbye?”
“I said, ‘Have a good date.’ Isn’t that sufficient?”
I smile despite myself. “Not even close.”
I kiss her. Soft at first, but it shifts almost immediately. If this is all I get of her today, I’m going to make it count. My mouth moves over hers, deeper, more forceful, until her back hits the door with a thud.
Christ. Letting her go is impossible.
And yeah, I know it’s only for a day. But if this is what a few hours apart feels like, how the hell am I supposed to handle itduring the season? The road trips, the back-to-back games, the weeks without her?
That’s a problem for another day.
She shifts, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Okay… I guess I’ll go.”
“Tomorrow,” I remind her. And myself.
She gives me a small nod.
There’s a beat of silence—too long to be comfortable, too short to say what either of us might actually want to?—
And then she slips out the door.
“So,” I start again, but like clockwork, the second I try to get real with Emma, either she or Bodhi finds a way to derail it.
“Cut!” Bodhi’s voice slices through the air. “Dominic, can I get a minute?”
Of course.
I nod and follow him behind one of the many towering bookshelves, tucked far enough back that production won’t catch on to what’s clearly going to be another come-to-Jesus moment.
The bar we’re filming in tonight looks less like a nightlife hotspot and more like someone’s grandfather’s study. Leather armchairs, flickering wall sconces, and bookshelves that stretch from floor to ceiling that create intimate little nooks. The drinks are served in heavy glass tumblers, and everything smells faintly of old pages and cedar. It’s the kind of place Emma lit up over the second we walked in. Mia would’ve called it stuffy and dared me to steal a book.
And I would’ve.
After a full day on a catamaran cruise, where I spent more time wishing Mia was with me than being present with Emma, I came here with a plan to be honest. What I didn’t plan for was how hard it would be. Not because I don’t want to say the words, but because every time I try to, I get shut down.
All I want is to break up with one of my “girlfriends.” Not a sentence I ever thought I’d say.
As soon as we’re alone, Bodhi spins on me. “What are you doing?” He throws his clipboard onto a nearby armchair and starts pacing. “We talked about this. We had an agreement.”
“I can’t do it.” My jaw stays tight. “It’s all wrong.”
“Is this about some moral compass, man?” He walks a few steps away, then doubles back.
I scratch the back of my neck. “It’s not right. Messing with someone’s feelings like this.”
“Look, I like Emma,” he starts. “I really do. But everyone knows what they’re signing up for. Yeah, we want a love story, but we also want astory. And good stories need tension. Drama.”
“If this is just about the filming, let me talk to her off-camera. I’m sure if I explain, she’ll understand. Maybe I gave her the wrong impression early on, but I haven’t led her on. I don’t see how this will come as a shock to her.”
