Fairytale Love - Becca & Brian (12 page)

At the words ‘call sheet,’ Brian’s head snapped up and his eyes widened.

He mouthed, “Who is that?”

Gavin spoke quickly. “That’s right, and I need you to get it back to me tonight by midnight, Eastern Standard Time. I’ll see you tomorrow—”

“Hold on.” Becca lowered the phone and covered the speaker with her hand as she whispered to Brian, “It’s the show. They said I got cast.”

Brian’s face lit up like it used to when they had an unexpected assembly in elementary school. Or when he’d hit the ball over the fence in little league in middle school. Or when she’d show up at his house with cheesecake in high school.

Sounding happier than she’d heard him in she couldn’t remember how long, he asked, “You did?”

Becca nodded. Seeing his mood change so drastically made her feel like she was going to throw up. How was she going to break it to him that she didn’t want to do it? She’d broken out in hives during the audition; in front of the camera was not where she belonged. Plus, this was a
dating
show. She didn’t want her business broadcast for everyone to see.

But the last thing she wanted to do was disappoint Brian, she had just been wishing that there was something she could do to cheer him up. Unfortunately, watching him romance some girl in front of her was not what she had in mind. Also, her sister’s wedding was in a month. She needed to be here to help Krista.

That’s it.

Putting the phone back to her ear, she said, “What is the schedule? My sister is getting married in a month.”

If she could get out of this on a scheduling technicality, then yes, she would still be disappointing Brian but it would be out of her hands. Sure, she knew that she was being a big, fat, clucking chicken but…cluck, cluck.

“Perfect. We’re filming for three weeks. Then there is a two-week break before the finale.”

“Oh.” Becca’s mind was doing a mental Google search for any other reason—other than she really freaking did not want to do this—to get out of the show.

Before she could come up with anything, Gavin said he would talk to her soon and disconnected the call. As she placed her phone back in her purse, all she could think was,
Crap, crap, crap.

When she looked back up at Bri, he was smiling from ear to ear. “Can you believe this?” he asked her excitedly.

“No,” Becca answered honestly.

“We’re going to be on a TV show together,” Brian said with the same excitement Becca thought someone would have from winning the lottery.

She did not share his elation.

“Yep.” She nodded.

Her mind was scrambling to come up with how she was going to get out of this. She hadn’t signed anything yet. Technically, she hadn’t even given her verbal agreement. Gavin had interpreted her “Oh” like it had been touchdown and spiked the ball when really they were still at the fifty-yard line and the game was far from over.

Brian stared at her in disbelief, shaking his head before saying, “Man, this is perfect.” Then he picked up his fork and started shoveling food into his mouth like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Seeing his face void of worry and turmoil, and that his appetite had not just come back but it had come back in full force, Becca knew that there was only one thing to do—pack the clothes she had just unpacked yesterday. It looked like she was going to be spending three weeks filming a dating reality show.

B
rian leaned to the right as he took the sharp curve at a cautious twenty miles per hour even though the posted traffic sign suggested thirty. He straightened the car out and glanced over at Becca, who was seated beside him in his Jeep, white-knuckling the windy drive up to Whisper Lake. Literally¸ he could see the whites of her knuckles as she gripped the door handle.

When they’d received their contracts with all the filming details, his first reaction to seeing that they’d be filming up at Whisper Lake was nostalgic. He’d spent most of his summers up here, either with family and friends or at camps.

His second response was,
Oh shit,
—because Brian knew all too well how much Becca hated the windy, narrow, two-lane road that was the only way in and out of Whisper Lake.

His third thought was that they’d be returning to the scene of the crime—if you considered the kiss they’d shared criminal. Which, in Brian’s opinion, that indiscretion had been so hot that, if it weren’t illegal, it should have been. He still felt guilty over it. That was for damn sure.

Becca hadn’t just been tipsy—she’d been toasted. Not three sheets to the wind either. It had been more like thirty sheets. But when she’d started kissing him, he hadn’t been able to pull away from her. Even if he’d just been a passive participant, he might not feel as bad as he did about what had happened. But he’d been engaged in that kiss from the moment her soft lips had touched his.

Brian reminisced about the way that she’d slumped against him. He’d wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. Her soft body had sunk into the hard planes of his body, and his planes weren’t the only things that were hard. He’d gone to full mast in a matter of seconds, and once she’d opened her mouth and her sweet, wet tongue had swept across, licking his bottom lip, Brian had defied the laws of physics and grown even more rock hard. Something had snapped inside of him, and as his tongue had plunged into the hot suction of her mouth, sensations he’d never felt before had rocketed through him to the point that he’d thought there’d been a very real possibility that he was going to explode in his pants.

Even now, six months later, he could still taste the sweetness of the girly drinks Becca had been drinking the entire night, which had led to her intoxication. He could still feel her lips pressed against his, her tongue meeting him lick for lick, her fingernails digging to the point of stinging through his dress shirt on his back. She’d kissed him like she needed him more than she needed oxygen. She’d clung to him as if he’d been the only thing she’d ever had or ever would need.

He hadn’t ever messed with drugs after his short stint during his freshman year of high school, but Becca’s kiss had made him higher than anything he’d ever smoked and drunker than anything he’d ever had to drink. Her kiss was potent.

Shifting uncomfortably in his chair and looking down at his lap, he saw the fairly impressive—if he did say so himself—bulge that was pressing behind his zipper. Brian hoped Becca wouldn’t glance over and notice the visible proof of what he’d been thinking about. Not that she’d know what he was thinking about. Damn. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he got his kicks from driving on winding roads, which he was sure was some people’s thing, but not his.

“What did your mom need?” Brian asked, hoping to distract his raging hormone soldiers from their march down south. He needed his troops to stand down.

That question was the first thing that had popped (no pun intended) into his head. They’d stopped by Mr. and Mrs. Sloan’s house on the way out of town because Mrs. Sloan had called and said that she’d needed to see Becca.

“Oh.” Becca looked startled as she turned to him.

Great. Here he was fantasizing, daydreaming, obsessing over a moment they’d shared together and she’d forgotten he was in the car. Perfect, just perfect.

“She had some pictures to give me that she found on her I-will-have-a-clean-attic mission that I guess she’s been on the past year.” Even though he knew that Becca was
trying
to be present, she couldn’t have sounded more preoccupied.

“Pictures of what?” Brian knew that it was a stupid question and he was grabbing at straws here. He figured they were more than likely pictures of Becca growing up, but he wanted to keep her talking so his mind didn’t have the chance to mutiny with more boner-inducing thoughts.

“I haven’t looked at them yet.” Becca’s voice sounded distracted.

He heard her take a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth before she, once again, turned and stared out the window.

Maybe she was just stressed out about the drive she hated so much. Maybe she was nervous about shooting the show. Actually, the more Brian thought about it, the less it made sense that she’d agreed to do it in the first place.

When he’d been packing yesterday and tying up some loose ends, his mom had come in to let him know how his dad’s doctor’s appointment had gone—which, knock on wood, his dad was still getting stronger by the day—and he’d told her the news that not only had he gotten the show but Becca had as well. His mom had immediately jumped to the foregone conclusion that Becca had turned down the opportunity. Even after he’d explained that Becca was, actually going to do it, his mom had just stood in his doorway shaking her head, looking slightly horrified.

After she’d asked her son several questions, the first one being, “Why? Why in the world would Becca do that?” Brian realized that he had no idea. Honestly, as much as he’d tried to run the breakfast, when they’d gotten the calls, over and over in his head, he couldn’t for the life of him remember how her conversation had gone. He didn’t recall her actually agreeing to be on the show.

He’d just assumed that she would say yes; which was insane when he thought about it. Becca hated attention in any form. She liked to be the observer—behind the scenes. Unlike Brit, his baby sister, Becca did not suffer from YSS (youngest sibling syndrome), which was a term he’d coined to explain his little sister’s constant need for attention and approval. She’d pretty much grown out of it once she’d hit high school, but every once in a while, it would rear its ugly head.

“Are you nervous about filming?” Brian asked in a pathetic-slash-generic attempt to open up a dialog he should have had with her yesterday, at the table, before he’d grossly taken for granted the fact that she’d hop on board the crazy train at Reality Show Station and he would no longer be the lone passenger to whatever the destination might be.

“Are
you
?” she snapped back, being uncharacteristically defensive.

Brian’s eyes cut to hers for only the briefest of moments, because he really did need to keep his eyes on the road, but he was also trying to gauge where this out-of-the-blue reaction had come from. She did
not
look happy. In fact, if Brian were pushed to classify her mood, he would have to say that it was downright pissed.

Okay.

“Not really,” Brian said, trying to answer her question in the most benign way possible. He didn’t want to say anything wrong and agitate her any more than she so obviously was.

He could have sworn that he heard her mumble, “Of course not,” under her breath.

When he glanced quickly over at her, she immediately masked her facial expression to neutral.

“Oh, that’s good,” she said with what he easily read as forced sincerity.

To say that Brian had been up in his own head since finding out the news yesterday would be like saying that Chicago was breezy—true but a severe understatement. Only now was the last twenty-four hours coming back to him like a fogged bathroom mirror clearing when you blast it with a hair dryer. It started out with a tiny circle of realization and quickly spread until the entire memory reflection became crystal clear.

Becca hadn’t agreed to participate on this show. In fact, if anything, she’d been trying to turn it down. At the very least, she’d been on the fence, but she’d had one foot on the not-doing-the-show side. So why,
why
, had she agreed to do it?

Shit
. Brian’s jaw tensed as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. It was because of him. As the mental puzzle pieces in his mind locked into place, he was able to see the big picture.

Brian had been stressed, upset, and the second he’d found out that Becca had been cast, the dark cloud of doom that had been hanging over his head had instantly disappeared. Not having to leave Becca to go on this insane adventure had been like hot rays of sun-hope. In his mind’s eye, he could see the moment that the indecision clouds had parted from Becca’s stunning, blue eyes. It was when he’d reacted like she was going, not even waiting to see if she actually wanted to do this. Because she’d seen how happy and relieved the thought of her being on the show had made him, she’d resigned herself to doing exactly that.

That was Becca. His Beckles. She always put the needs of others before her own. Especially his.

He had to fix this or, at the very least, acknowledge her selfless sacrifice. He should make sure that his Scooby Doo detective skills were actually sniffing out the right conclusion to the why-is-Becca-doing-this mystery. He figured the direct approach was the best.

“Why did you decide to do this?” Brian asked, having a pretty good idea that her answer was going to land
him
in the totally-insensitive-ass category.

But if the category fits…

* * *