Page 92 of The Love Rematch
It makes Jake want to die. And he really thinks he might. The pressure in his chest builds and builds the longer he stares, but he can’t look away. His gaze is glued to her elegant hand, framed by a defined six-pack. His lungs swell, bigger and bigger. His head pounds. Any moment, he might explode, a real-life case of spontaneous combustion—the result of having his every bad decision shoved directly in his face.
“Rise and shine, lovebirds,” Nina finally croons once Phil is done capturing the scene.
Cooper’s eyes open immediately. The asshole is obviously a morning person. But it does give Jake some satisfaction when Emily simply groans and pulls the covers up over her head. That satisfaction disappears the moment Cooper offers a slow, smug smile and pulls her an inch closer.
This is what you wanted, Jake tries to remind himself.This is what you asked for.
But it’s not. It’s really not. He wanted them to ride off into the sunset, out of sight and out of mind, like the ending of a classic western. He did NOT want to have their all-night sex fest shoved into his face first thing in the fucking morning.
Message received loud and clear.
She’s moved on.
The truth couldn’t be more obvious if it hit him in the face with a ten-inch cast-iron frying pan. In fact, it feels like it has.
“Time to wake up,” Nina says again, clearly enjoying herself.
A muffled sound erupts from the lump of down comforter. It sounds like, “Go away.”
“I told you seven, and it’s seven.”
“You’re evil.”
“I’m prompt. And on a schedule, so get up. Are you decent? We need to film a quick goodbye, then get the place packed up.”
Neither Cooper nor Emily responds, clearly still in the throes of postcoital bliss. Nina, being Nina, gives them ten seconds and then rips the covers off.
Thank FUCK they’re wearing clothes.
Jake might pass out from the relief.
It’s not much, a pair of silk pajama pants for Cooper and a matching tank-and-shorts set for Emily, but it’s clothes. If he’d been greeted by their bare asses, he really might have died from the shock.
Emily glares at Nina, sticks her tongue out at the camera, and barely offers Jake a passing glance before she rolls from the bed and wraps herself in a plush robe. Cooper remains shirtless. The guy is carved from fucking marble, so Jake doesn’t blame him, but it doesn’t keep his blood from boiling as Phil records their chaste kiss goodbye at the door.
All Jake wants to do is take Emily by the arm, lead her away, and confess everything that’s been bubbling in the back of his throat since the moment he heard the wordsI wasn’t enough for him. He’s so racked with guilt he barely slept. His hands have been fidgety all morning. He’s jumpy. He’s on edge. She’s gone seven years thinking the absolute worst thing he can imagine, and he doesn’t want to wait another second longer to tell her the truth.
But when? How?
Nina shoves him and Cooper toward the door, and Jake goes on autopilot. He takes Cooper to his room, then checks on Ethan and Pierre. He finds Fred, then Trish, desperate to distract himself when all he wants to do is bust into Emily’s room and force Nina to give them a minute alone. All throughout the puzzle ceremony, he searches for some opportunity to get close to her, but there isn’t one. They’re separated for the private propeller flights to Maun. Jake goes with the guys and Nina flies with Emily. Then they’re quickly ushered through the small, chaotic airport and onto their flight to Johannesburg. Because of a delay, they need to run to catch their next flight to Dubai. By the time they get there, bleary eyed and exhausted, it’s one more flight to the Maldives and a boat ride to their resort. He can’t find a single moment to catch Emily alone. Nina accompanies her to the bathroom, to the lounge, to the newsstand. They travel in separate vehicles and boats. Jake is constantly shoved in with Ethan and Cooper, the two people he least wants to see in the world—one because he’s an asshole, and the other because he’s Mr. Perfect, which is honestly a hundred times worse.
By the time Jake checks the men in, Emily and Nina are nowhere in sight. As the lead, Emily gets to stay in a private two-bedroom bungalow over the water where they’ll be filming with her family when they arrive in the morning. Nina, Trish, Fred, and Emily’s camera crew are in the four-bedroom water bungalow next door, while he, Ethan, Cooper, and their camera crew are in a private bungalow way back in the jungle, with the barest glimpse of water visible through the trees. As soon as he puts the guys in their rooms, he follows the path to the beach and plops into the sand to stare across the ocean at the bungalows glowing beneath the stars. Emily’s is the second to last. He can tell by the crew parked on the walkway outside her front door, and by the sight of Nina on her phone in the neighboring villa. Emily’s curtains are drawn but her light is on, providing tantalizing hints of movement in the room beyond.
She’s so close he can taste her.
Yet so fucking far away.
Jake knows the drill. A camera will be set on her front door all night in case anyone gets any ideas—it wouldn’t be the first time one of the finalists snuck into the lead’s bedroom. She’ll be under constant supervision until the proposals, which means he may never get to tell her what he’s had no idea she’s been waiting seven years to hear.
She’s enough.
She’s more than enough.
She’s too much—too perfect, too good, too beautiful, too talented, too kind, too everything when compared to the likes of him.
Jake’s so wrapped up in his thoughts, he jumps when his phone rings. The wordMomflashes across the screen as if in accusation. His first instinct is to ignore the call. He’s been carefully avoiding her for more than a month—what’s one more day? But then he remembers by sunrise, Emily’s family will be here. She told ten million people what he did. There’s no way she won’t tell her parents the truth before it airs, and if he knows Emily, she’ll do it tomorrow. In less than twenty-four hours, her parents will know everything, and they’ll take it home with them.
His mother deserves to know the truth about her son from his own lips.
