Page 54 of Playing With Matches
“And he’ll have the fruit tart,” Isla says.
A few more seconds pass before either of us looks away.
“So what do you think we should do?” I ask. She raises her brows and tips her head sideways, chin out, defiant. “About theshow,” I clarify.
“I don’t know,” Isla says. “But Emily seemed to think I was overthinking things. She reminded me that things have a way of working themselves out, and I think I’m going to go with that for now. There’s not much we can do at this point anyways. So I say we let it ride. ”
“Let it ride?” I repeat, swirling the last of my wine.
The waiter sets our desserts down, and we immediately trade plates without comment.
I can’t think of anything more terrifying than leaving things to chance. It’s been my experience to date that nothing good can come of that. But Isla is staring at me with so much determination in her eyes that I’m not sure I have the will to fight. More than that, I have the feeling that I’ve been bested.
“Do you think you can handle that?” she challenges, digging into her fruit tart.
“I think I can handle anything,” I say, stealing a bit of strawberry from her plate before digging into the luscious slice of chocolate cake, “as long as we’re in it together.”
isla
“Will they make good choices? Will their libidos get the best of them? I hope they’ll hold their horses and wait to hear who they matched with before getting too attached and entangled. But I have no idea how the group date is going to go. It might be a disaster.”
~Jackson Porter, Playing with Matches Confessionals
It’s only8 am when the sound of someone talking on the balcony wakes me.
I peer out the sliding glass door.
“That’s what I thought,” Jackson is clutching his loaner phone to his ear and pacing. He’s wearing a pair of running shorts and a sweaty tank top. His hair is damp.
“Right. I honestly don’t care what we call it, but it can’t be ‘Asswiper.’ How is it that nobody caught this?”
When he sees me, he waves.
“Okay, I gotta go. Nope. No spoilers. You’ll have to watch the show when it airs next week like everyone else.” He hangs up the call and grabs onto the railing, dropping into a lunge and a stretch. There’s music playing on his phone.
“You’re up early,” I slide the door to my bedroom all the way open.
I squint at the morning brightness. The sun is reflecting off the water in a million glittering sparkles. I can see a small crowd has gathered on the pier, and when I look closer, I realize it’s the cast and crew loading onto the catamaran.
“Looks like the cast got an early start,” I say. “Hope they have fun.”
“But not too much fun,” Jackson says. “Have you eaten yet?”
“I just woke up,” I laugh. “I’m still in my pajamas.” I gesture down at my sleep tee.
“Well throw something on,” Jackson says. “I passed by the breakfast buffet, and they were just putting out the bacon.”
“I was just planning to bring something back to the room and get to work,” I say.
“What happened to the ‘let it ride’ Isla?”
“What happened to the ‘I have work to get done’ Jackson?”
“I did it already. That was the call I was on. Now you’re seeing vacation Jackson. It might surprise you to learn this, Isla, but I can be a lot of fun. Let’s call a truce for today. Have breakfast with me?”
I glance back at my bed a little longingly. The laptop is still sitting open on the bed, right beside my pillow where I left it last night. I’d been in the middle of a scene but too tired to finish at 1 am. I duck back in the room to shut it down.
Jackson frowns and looks at me imploringly. “Please don’t make me eat alone? It’s a little triggering for me. I don’t know if you can tell but I was picked on as a kid. I was kind of a nerd, and nobody wanted to sit with me.”
