Page 36 of Most Eligible
“He certainly is,” Rhett agrees.
Dr. Dora looks pleased with his answer, and as the cameras cut for a break, she turns back to Roland and starts talking to him, standing a little closer than is strictly necessary. Olie watches them suspiciously. “He wouldn’t,” she mumbles.
“What? Oh—you think…?” I follow her gaze across the room. Dr. Dora places a hand on Roland’s arm, throwing her head back laughing. “I mean, she’s almost twice his age for starters.”
“Yeah, but she’s an expert,” Olie says. “I mean I try to stay on top of things, trends, ya know, but I could never compete with that.” She shakes her head and walks off.
I grab a water bottle and step toward Lainey and Roland as Dr. Dora finally leaves him alone. Tipping the monogrammed Chateau Céline bottle to my lips, I focus my attention on their conversation. Through the distorted plastic, I see Roland put something in his mouth, then take a swig of water.
“Not here,” Lainey hisses. “Someone could see.”
Roland shifts his weight from side to side, bending to rub his injured knee. “Sorry,” he says quietly. I frown. MyLove Shackcontract didn’t prohibit painkillers, but maybe his contract is different… or maybe whatever he’s taking isn’t ordinary ibuprofen. “It’s just not getting any better. These are the only thing that—”
“And we’re back!” Norbert’s booming voice echoes through the room like cannon fire, and Lainey clutches her forehead, muttering something about “indoor voices.” I refocus on the others as the PAs scuttle around, removing our body mics and arranging us back into a circle with me between Rhett and Olie. Dr. Dora returns from the bathroom, and I swear she’s undone another button on her cardigan. Will we all be naked by the end of this?
“I’m already picking up on a lot,” Dr. Dora says. “Being physically close to someone is one of the best ways to judge whetheryou’re sexually compatible with them. For example.” She walks over to Roland and Addison. “You two: sexually compatible.” Then she turns and points to Addison and Philippa. “Not sexually compatible.” Next, Philippa and Chloe: “Very sexually compatible,” she says, winking at them. Philippa and Chloe both grin a little awkwardly and avoid each other’s gaze.
Dr. Dora continues around the circle, declaring Nina and Rhett so sexually incompatible that she’s shocked they’re able to stand in a room together. Then she points to me and Rhett. I feel him tense next to me.
She looks at us for a moment and nods thoughtfully. “There’s potential here.” Her gaze lingers on me, then flicks to Rhett, whose mouth is hanging open. “But I think you have trouble trusting a partner.”
Leaving me baffled, she moves on and declares me and Olie “sexual opposites.”
Olie chortles. “I mean, you did put ‘missionary’ on your form.”
I scowl at her, but my mind is still on Rhett. Dr. Dora may be completely wacky, but she might be right about him. He’s no Justin Bieber, but he has his fair share of fans, and knowing who to trust can’t be easy. When we met, did he think I was just another groupie?
“Now,” Dr. Dora says. “We’re going to pair up. To start, you’ll practice with each other, then everyone will have a turn with Roland. Let’s stay where we are and get into partners here.”
I try to move closer to Olie, but Dr. Dora pairs her with Monica, leaving me with Rhett.
I look pleadingly to Dr. Dora and point at Olie. “Can’t I be with her? We could take turns.”
“No, you’ll be fine,” Dr. Dora says. “Mr. Auburn doesn’t bite, do you?”
Rhett grunts in response, which isn’t particularly reassuring.He may not bite, but that doesn’t mean our history won’t bite me in the ass.
“To start,” Dr. Dora says, “you should press your bodies together. I’ll play some music. Really let it take you over. Listen to what your body is saying, what your genitals are whispering in your ears.”
“Christ,” Rhett mutters. “I did not sign up for this.” He’s not the only one looking skeptical. In her folding chair, Lainey looks like she would rather be kicked in the face by a horse than watch this.
Rhett turns around as Dr. Dora puts on some jazz music that’s far too sexy for this early in the day. Facing Rhett, I take a deep breath, steeling myself, then step forward until we’re touching. I may have thought we were friends at the start of last night, but I can’t let him play me like that again. Getting distracted by him means less time with Roland, and that’s a risk I can’t take.
When I wind my arms around his middle, he makes a noise in the back of his throat that’s somewhere between strangulation and a groan of pleasure.
“Try not to have too much fun,” I mutter. I duck my head so I’m not looking straight into his eyes. When I breathe in, I nearly cough as my lungs fill with his scent. Leather and citrus and medium-fancy shampoo.
Dr. Dora cranks up the jazz, and Rhett links his arms around my waist. I catch my breath, staring fixedly at his collar. I feel his heart pounding lazily, like being pressed up against me doesn’t make him feel anything. The scowl on his face is bored, annoyed—more than a little insulting.
I press more fully against him, our bodies connected in every possible location. I feel his stomach tense, and something between his waist and thigh that’s very hard to ignore.
“What are you doing?” he growls, fingers flexing against my back.
I shrug, searching for it—that hint in his eyes that he wants me. Something flickers, but it’s gone as soon as I find it. His jaw tenses, eyes fixed a few inches above mine. I press in further, but he bites his lip and pulls back by an inch. The jazz rhythm gets even slower and sexier. Across the circle Philippa and Chloe have started elaborately salsa dancing and Roland and Addison are full-on making out, earning them more than a few disgusted looks.
I pull Rhett by the shoulders and he bends over me, eyes forced down to mine. The tension in his body is thick, ropes of it lining every muscle.
“Can you at least try to act like you don’t want me dead?” I whisper.
