Page 50 of Unscripted

“Fancy a chat?” he said, a small smirk on his face.

Could he tell I was nervous?

“Yeah, sure,” I said. Chiara squeezed my elbow before turning and continuing to the fire pit.

“Daybeds?” Callum asked, pointing to a spot on the farthest lounger that no one had taken yet.

“Sure,” I said.

I started across the grass, Callum following next to me. He rested his hand above my lower back, guiding me to the daybed. The touch was a good move, one that would look nice and intimate on TV.

If it also happened to give me a full body chill, then so be it. I would easily ignore it for the sake of the act we were putting on.

Shaking off the way his touch lit me up, I sat on the daybed next to him. The loungers were about the size of a full mattress, with outdoor pillows arranged at the top and a blanket thrown across the bottom. During the day, it was one of my favorite places to laze about as it was covered by an overhang and therefore made for the perfect shady nap spot.

At night, it had all the fixings to be rather romantic. I tried not to think about it too much as we leaned against the pillows and both looked out at the rest of the garden.

“So,” I said.

“So,” he said back.

He wasn’t exactly smiling, but there was a crease around his eyes that told me loud and clear he found my awkwardness amusing.

“Poppy,” he continued.

“Callum,” I said back.

He leaned in closer, and whispered, “Relax.”

It took everything in me not to roll my eyes at his command and how easily he had been able to read me. Instead, I let out a breath.

I could do this. I could pretend he was just a normal guy, and I was a normal girl, and there was no villa or cameras or producers or elaborate plan to cheat the system.

Ask him a question, I thought. That’s a good start.

“So, what’s your favorite color?”

He looked at me as though I couldn’t be serious.

“That’s what you’re going with?”

A frustrated sigh escaped my lips, and I let my head loll back on the pillow behind me. He was infuriatingly right. That was a lame question.

This was not going according to plan. I couldn’t imagine what the viewers at home would think of this thrilling conversation. I didn’t even know how the producers could cut this into something remotely entertaining.

“Tell me about your family,” he said, taking over.

Okay, that was an easy one. I could talk about my family for ages.

“I’m an only child. My parents are wonderful. They’ve been together forever—were high school sweethearts.”

“Sounds like something from the movies,” he replied.

“It kind of is.”

I thought about my mom and dad, an ocean away, and felt a pang of homesickness. I wondered if it showed on my face because Callum’s voice softened, as though he was trying to tread lightly.

“Do you miss them?” he asked.