Matched (29 page)

Oh, God, no. This cannot be happening.
My hands cover my mouth, but the words I’m thinking actually gasp from Emma’s and the room looks her way.

“I mean…wow,” Emma says, attempting to recover.

Jensen grabs the hand of a clearly flabbergasted and shaken Jasmine. “Since the first day I saw you on set—all timid and scared to take off your little lace panties—I knew I wanted to take care of you…encourage and mold you into the perfect woman you had hiding underneath that sweetness.”

I’m struggling not to vomit, and poor Jasmine hasn’t even blinked.

“I care about you, Jasmine Cox. Now you know I’m not the marrying type—and baby, that isn’t gonna change. But I want to offer you the best of me, a promise to always look out for you and be your best friend. What we do in the bedroom with whoever has never mattered to us, and why should it?”

“
What?
” Callie whispers at my side. My jaw is about to hit the floor, and I’m pretty sure Adam is going to kill something or someone; his scrutinizing rage is electrifying every air molecule in the room.

“Jasmine, I think I may love you,” Jensen continues. “I want you to move in with me after we leave here. Let’s show the world that open relationships, when you’re with your soulmate, do work.”

Slowly, Jensen stands. Jasmine is still completely frozen, without having spoken a word. The tension grows from uncomfortable to suffocating the longer we wait for her response.

Luckily, Tom rescues her before I march up there and do it myself. “Well, I wish you
both
the best. But before you make any big plans, let’s see if your key fits.”

And just like the ass he’s always been, Jensen slides in his key, grinning at the room. But that machismo melts into visible anxiety as he jiggles the key, then tries again with no luck.

“Sorry, you two,” Tom interjects. “It appears you’re not soulmates.”

“Thank God,” Callie blows out in relief before sinking down in the armchair next to Emma. I look to the spot where Adam had been standing and find him gone.

“Well, you know what this means. Peyton and Rachel will be leaving us tonight, and Jensen and Jasmine are one step closer to finding their true soulmates. Unfortunately,” Tom finishes with a frown, “$10,000 will be coming out of the collective bank. I really thought you had it after the first one, Miles.”

“Me too.” He looks anything but disappointed.

“That’s it for tonight! Everyone bid Peyton and Rachel farewell; they’ll be leaving shortly. I’ll see the remaining
ten
of you tomorrow.”

Confessional: Miles Newman

“Hey, I’m Miles. Figured I’d do you all a favor and explain what’s going on around here. Considering how confused the people actually living this are, I can only imagine what watching it at home is like.

“Well, it’s hotter than a mess. ‘Depraved insanity’ is more accurate.

“No, I shouldn’t say that; there’s actually a few really decent people here. You just have to be able to see through the bullshit to the person they really are—who they’d be and how they’d act if not trapped in this loony bin. Fortunately, I think I’m pretty good at that, and I’m not playing when I say I struck gold with my roommates. Our room is by far the sanest, cleanest, and most activity-free of the house.

“Funny how things work out…the people I admire most are the ones knee-deep in drama, because they actually have hearts and give a shit about others. As for the ones who have no feelings, aren’t invested in anything, and are drama-free…I’m done with them. I came here with Rachel as her plus one, her best friend and roommate.

“Huge mistake—or an eye-opener I’m glad I came across sooner rather than later, depending on how you look at it. Let’s just say if we were allowed access to phones or e-mail, I’d already have asked my brother to pack me up and move me the hell out of the apartment I share with her. Rachel’s always been a mouthy, diva bitch; it’s what I liked most about her. But I don’t do manipulative and cruel.

“I do, however, dabble in intelligence, strategy, and planning—which is why she’s the one packing to leave right now, and I’m the one who’s gonna win this whole damn thing.”

Chapter 20

Emma, Callie, and I follow Jasmine the moment Tom dismisses us, attempting to keep up as she flees toward our bedroom. Her idiot “best friend,” Jensen, doesn’t even notice. He’s too busy pouring shots, boasting that soulmates or not, she’s still his girl.

Callie expresses everyone’s shock as she slams the bedroom door. “Holy shit! What the hell was that?”

If I was on actual speaking terms with Oakley—or even Cruz, for that matter—I’d barter with them to give the schmuck an ass-kicking. But I’m not. Court already has one black eye, and I’m not sure Miles is the fighting type.

I move toward Jasmine’s bed, where she’s already flopped down face first. A pang of guilt hits me. A few days ago I was the spokeswoman for anti-violence, and now all I want is to see Jensen taught a lesson for thinking Jasmine would accept his pathetic attempt at chivalry.

But enough about how
I
feel. Right now, the only thing that matters is Jasmine.

Emma’s already sitting beside her, rubbing her back in silent support while Callie lingers at the door, making sure no one barges in. She gives me an imploring look to say something; guess she’s not up for it. Probably not a good idea to couple Callie’s poor bedside manner with her outrage at the jerk who just publicly declared
our
girl unworthy of the ultimate commitment—monogamy.

“Jas.” I sit beside her, watching the heavy rise and fall of her back as she breathes in short, choppy bursts. “Take a deep breath.” I inhale a loud, long stream of air through my nose and blow it back out through my mouth in an attempt to coach her. She lifts and turns her head my way, her eyes glazed with glittering tears.

“He…” She tries to speak, but it dies in a choked sob.

“Shhh, try to relax first. Just breathe,” I coo, but it doesn’t help. Her entire body begins to shake violently as an onslaught of tears erupts.

Emma takes control, grabbing Jasmine’s shoulders gently. “Turn over and look at me,” she says with stern empathy, and miraculously, Jasmine listens. With her attention now, Emma simulates the healthy-way-to-breathe technique. Jasmine mimics it slowly and her body finally begins to relax, her shoulders dropping and breath coming easier.

Emma releases her hold and smiles. “That better?” she asks.

“Th-thanks,” Jasmine stammers softly, wiping her eyes and sniffling. “I’m sorry.”

“No way, don’t even say that!” Callie bursts out. I was wondering how long she’d last. “That asshole put you on the spot and disrespected you in front of the entire world. You have every fucking right to be upset.”

She’s absolutely on point, but...
brash
, and loud. I shoot her a wide-eyed glare, with a look that clearly says, “Not helping.”

“Sorry,” she murmurs. “Just hate him. Can’t help it.”

Jasmine rubs her nose and inhales another deep, cleansing breath. “I waited so long to hear him say ‘I love you.’” Her voice is wobbly, and I resist the urge to point out he only got as far as saying he thinks he
may
love her. God, I hate him. “But I can’t share him. I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have to,” Emma says gently. “Talk to him—be honest. If he really is your best friend like he claims, he should understand. I may not know a lot about relationships, but I was kinda under the impression ‘I love you, we’re together, so please don’t sleep with other people’ was an automatic rule.”

Jasmine shakes her head rapidly. “Not with him it’s not, and he won’t understand at all. I mean, I don’t know…maybe this is as good as I’ll ever ge—”

“Stop!” I interrupt, my anger bristling. “Look at me. You
will
find the guy who’s perfect for you in every way, and who wants to give you the world. I already told you this. I meant it then, and I mean it now.”

“But he—”

“No! Jensen’s made it amply,
disgustingly
clear what he has to offer. Now it’s up to you to make a decision, accept him and risk missing out on the love of your life out there somewhere, waiting for you, or be honest with yourself and tell Jensen the truth.” I’m not backing off this time. “What do
you
want, Jasmine?”

“I want it all.” Her voice quivers with unfamiliar strength, and she’s about to continue when the door flies open. Callie catches herself just short of a face plant.

Adam’s standing in the doorway. His entire body is coiled indomitably, his eyes dark and seizing Jasmine’s.

“Out,” he commands the other three of us, with no wiggle room for even a thought of an argument. “
Now
.”

But I’m not about to desert her. I take her hand and squeeze, but she lets go. I search her eyes, and she nods. “It’s okay. Go.”

You mean leave you alone with this imposing thunderhead of a man? No. He’ll have to go through me first.

I’m slow to stand, watching Callie walk out and Emma stop to whisper in Adam’s ear.

“Harlow?” I glance back at Jasmine. “I’ll be fine. Did you know bears are scared of fire?”

Um…

She grins, almost erasing my worry with her next words. “I’ve got plenty of fire in me. Now go.”

I do, but not before stopping at Adam and saying in my scariest voice, “I don’t like this one bit. There’ll be no safe place on Earth for you if you’re even
thinking
about not minding your manners.” He doesn’t reply and only stalks closer to Jasmine. She pulls her legs up and rests her chin on her knees.

I’m not sure what he’s about to say—hopefully something to make her realize how screwed up what her and Jensen have is and that he’d love to offer her much more—but he looks more pissed than poetic.

I step into the hall and reach back to grab the doorknob, catching him sit beside her on the bed and wrap his arms around her entire frame. She sags against him, unleashing it all as I shut the door.

“I think he likes her,” Emma chirps happily.

“I hope so.”

“I think I’m gonna go grab a shower. You guys got this?” Callie asks. We both nod as she’s already walking away. “If you need me, I’ll be in my room when I’m done.”

Emma and I are continuing down the hall when Cruz meets us at the top of the stairs, his mind elsewhere, almost plowing us over. “Sorry,” he says to only Emma, then rushes past.

“Hey!” Emma calls after him. “Don’t go in there. Adam’s talking to Jasmine.”

“Oh.” He stares down at the doorknob pensively. “Guess I’ll play another game of pool after all.”

He walks past us again without so much as a glance my way, heading back downstairs. I’m busy cringing internally when Emma steps in front of me, crossing her arms over her chest and widening her stance.

“So.”

“So?”

“Seriously?” She sneers. “What the hell happened in that grotto?”

I can’t even look at her. “Nothing,” I whisper to my feet.

“Bullshit.”

Now
I lift my head at her cruel, shocking bite. “Emma—”

“What? You have
no
problem lying to me, so I’m not gonna feel bad about getting real with you. That means profanity
will
be used.” Her brows rise. “So?”

My eyes close on a deep, humiliated sigh, and with no safe place to hide, I sink to the floor and rest my head against the wall. “I kissed him.”

“I figured.” She plops down next to me and crosses her legs.

“Just on the back…he was there, and perfect, and…I don’t know.” I run my hands through my hair. “I kissed his back a couple times, actually. And yeah, I wanted him to turn around, and…and…doesn’t matter. He shot me down.” I look over at her. “I totally misread between the lines. Now he’s pissed, and there was obviously never anything between us, so I’ll just have to endure looking like an idiot. Again.”

“Honestly, what did you expect to happen, Harlow?” Her voice has risen an octave, and her mouth is a thin, firm line.

“What? I…I don’t know—”

“
I
do. You wanted to use my brother as a rebound.” Her eyebrows pinch together, and she stands abruptly. “Not cool. He
should
be pissed.”

Stunned by her unexpected fury, I hurry to my feet. “No, I didn’t…I mean, I just don’t know.” My explanation’s as jumbled as my thoughts.

“Do you like him?”

My mouth opens, but no words come out. My eyes land on the cameraman at the end of the hall, and I lower my voice to a whisper. “Emma, please. Let’s find somewhere else to discuss this.”

“No, here’s just fine. Tell me—you expected my brother to what? Kiss you back? Take you in the Lovin’ Lounge and keep your mind off Oakley till you leave the show?”

“Emma...” I’m desperate to end the conversation.

“Screw you, Harlow.” She backs up. “He won’t say it because he’s too nice, but I’m tired of people in this house treating each other like objects just to get off on!” She pokes a finger at my chest and leans in. “You have no
idea
everything he’s given up—everything he’s done for our family. How
dare
you try to use him! He deserves better than that—better than
you
!”

“That’s enough.” Cruz’s stern growl has Emma’s mouth snapping shut, and an intense tremor spikes through me.

My entire body’s a solid, painful brick. I can’t look him in the eyes, but I study his feet and long legs as he stands behind Emma at the top of the stairs.
How long has he been here?
Did he hear everything?

It doesn’t matter. I hurt a friend, and I need to fix it.

“Emma, I’m sorry.” It’s a shamed plea aimed at the floor, but when I raise my head to try again, it’s to her retreating back.

My eyes finally risk a collision with Cruz’s dark-blue pair. He gives nothing away, binding me in his steely gaze until he, too, turns and heads back downstairs.

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been in this position—alone. The cameraman creeps closer, no doubt zooming in on the tears of regret begging to spill. And at my wit’s end, pushed way too far, I flip him off and march down the hall.