Page 9 of A Chance at Love

Whitney

Three weeks later

“Do you guys think this swimsuit is too slutty?”

It takes all my willpower not to exchange glances with Jess. The girl who just asked the question, Abigail, is standing in the middle of the kitchen wearing a bikini that will probably necessitate censorship bars when the show goes live.

“It’s cute,” I say as I continue to slice limes for drinks. “Are you comfortable in it?”

“Oh, totally,” says Abigail. “It’s like wearing nothing.”

“If you’re happy in it, that’s what matters,” I say.

“Thanks, Whitney. You’re sweet.”

As soon as Abigail bounds off toward the pool, some of the other girls in the kitchen start making fun of her. I just keep slicing limes, only laughing along with the girls one time. As it turns out, trying to stay in everyone’s favor on this show is harder than I thought it would be. In the three weeks that we’ve been here, though, I’ve done my best—and so has Leo. So far so good when it comes to our strategy.

“I think you’ve cut enough limes, Whitney,” says Jess, leaning her elbows on the kitchen counter. Then, lowering her voice, Jess says, “Can you believe that bikini? I’m pretty sure I saw her cooch.”

“Jess,” I hiss under my breath. A cameraman has just walked into the room.

Jess straightens up. “Yeah, that knife does seem pretty dull,” Jess says loudly and not at all fake sounding. The camera man keeps walking through the kitchen. As soon as he’s gone, Jess drops to her elbows again. “Where’s Leo?”

“Out by the pool, I think,” I say, grabbing a paper towel to wipe up the lime juice on the cutting board.

“You don’t worry about him being around all those bikini-clad girls? Especially ones with names that rhyme with Babigail?”

“Nope,” I say.

“You two are so weird,” says Jess. “Why are you still pretending like you don’t want to be together for real?” Then her eyes flick away from mine. “Speak of the devil.”

I look over and see Leo walk into the house. He’s just wearing swim trunks, and his body is golden tan. The sight of him makes my skin tingle, as it’s been doing since I got here.

“Want a drink, Leo?” Jess calls out to him.

“Sure,” he says. As he walks over to us, I have to avert my eyes from his tan, muscled chest. Jess grabs the margarita-filled blender, pours some into a glass, and adds one of the lime wedges I just sliced.

“Thanks,” says Leo. He takes a drink, then grins at us. “You two should come out to the pool. It’s gorgeous out there.”

“I agree,” says Jess. “Let’s put on our swimsuits, Whitney.”

“Maybe later,” I say. I’ve been purposely avoiding being out by the pool. It’s just too tempting seeing Leo half-naked.

Jess groans. “No. Not later. We’re going out there now.” She grabs my hand and starts pulling me toward the stairs that lead up to our room. And as much as I want to struggle and yank my hand out of her grasp, I don’t want to cause a scene. I give in and follow her.

Up in our room, I begrudgingly change into my swimsuit.

“Oh, stop being such a grump,” says Jess.

I sigh. Okay, fine. I know I really should just chill out and enjoy this time while we’re here. I’ve been so focused on staying on everyone’s good side to avoid getting voted off and not spending too much time with Leo to avoid being tempted by him that I haven’t even been enjoying myself.

The least I can do is relax in the pool.

In our swimsuits—Jess is in a pink-and-gold bikini and I’m in a dark navy one—we head back downstairs and step out of the open French doors into the pool area. A bunch of people are out there, some hanging out in the pool while others lounge in the sun. Leo is lying back on one of the lounge chairs, sunglasses on, hands behind his head, soaking up the sun. All his muscles are taut and glimmering.

Why couldn’t he have grown up to be ugly?

It would make this so much simpler.

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