Page 87 of Next Time We'll Fall

“Can’t you? I thought Oklahoma was considered the South.”

He grins. “Nah. So, tell me, Juniper …”

“Yes?” I ask him softly.

“Who’s that man staring at us?”

“What?” I look at him in confusion.

He points to the right, and I follow his viewpoint.

My heart races as I see Rafe standing there, glaring in our direction.

I wave at him and smile, but he doesn’t wave back.

I wonder how long he’s been staring at us. Fuck. Does he think I’ve been flirting with August? What is he doing here? Doesn’t he have to work?

“That’s my friend,” I say. “Actually, he’s my best friend’s older brother.”

“Well, he’s looking at us like he wants to murder me.” He grins. “I’m glad to know you know him because I was thinking perhaps he was a paparazzo or something.”

“Oh, no. Rafe’s a vet in town. He’s a good guy. He’s just got resting bitch face,” I say.

August wraps his arm around my shoulders, and I look up at him in surprise.

“Sorry. Was that too forward?”

“No.”

I just shrug, taken aback.

“I like you, Juniper. Jackie told me you are one of the front runners and that I should come over and meet you, and I’m glad I did. You might even be my pick for the end.”

“What?” My jaw drops. “But you haven’t even met the other girls.”

“That doesn’t matter,” he says. “I’m going to let you in on my little secret.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t really care which woman I end up with because this is not real. However,” he says, looking at me with a small smile, “now that I say all of that, now that I’ve met you, I might have to take back those words.”

“But you barely know me.”

“I know enough about your spirit to know you’re not here for the fame. But you already told me you’re here for the money, and that’s exactly how I know you’re not after mine.” He grins, running his fingers through his short golden-blond hair. “Because if you were here for my money, you wouldn’t have admitted that you were on the show for the money.”

He leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Plus, you never know. Maybe it was fated for us to meet.”

“You believe in fate?”

“Not really.” He laughs. “But that’s the line I’m practicing for the show.”

“Oh.” I start giggling. “Sorry. I thought you were being for real for a moment.”

“Some parts are real.”

“Some parts?”

“Well, I’m an actor. I mix the real with the method. Have to make it sound good, right?”