Bedroom Games
Page 7

I curled my sticky legs under me and rolled my eyes, thinking about my partner. I’d last seen him a few minutes ago, wiping splatters off of Sunnie’s face and flirting with her like she was his partner. Tool. I hated that I’d been paired up with him. Hated it. But there was nothing I could do except try to make the best of things and lay low.
Someone hopped up on the counter next to me. I looked over and smiled as Jendan sat next to me.
“Hey,” said Jendan. “Think they’ll use up all the hot water?”
I raised one of my sticky hands, eyeing it with distaste. “I don’t even care at this point. I think my fingers are glued together.”
He laughed and leaned in, his voice dropping. “So who’s your partner?”
“Brodie,” I whispered. “I’m screwed.”
His eyes widened, and then he gave me a sympathetic look. “Oh man. You are screwed.”
“I know,” I said unhappily. “He was the last person I’d have chosen.”
“You know the rest of the house is going to be gunning for him and Katy and Liam,” he whispered back. “They already won money on another show.”
Brodie didn’t win, I wanted to point out, but Brodie was, well, Brodie. No one wanted him around for long. So I nodded.
“Don’t worry,” Jendan said, nudging my shoulder. “I’ve got your back.”
“Thanks.” I nudged him back, and grimaced when my clothing stuck to his. “Man, we are really gross.”
“We are,” he agreed. “But I’m used to getting dirty in my line of work.”
“Oh?” I smiled politely as the older woman with the crazy hair came and sat down next to us, eavesdropping on our conversation. “What do you do outside of the house, Jendan?”
“I’m a stuntman,” he said proudly, and he nodded at the newcomer as way of greeting. “You need someone lit on fire for a scene or someone to jump out of a burning building? That’s me.”
“Wow.” I was impressed. “That’s such a cool job. What are you doing here on a reality TV show?” Jimmy’s words before the show rang through my head—superfans, mactors, or broke-ass bitches. Jendan didn’t seem giddy with excitement about being on the show, unlike Jayme or Mickey. That meant Jendan was a broke-ass bitch or a mactor. I studied him. He was good looking. Mactor?
“Same thing as you,” Jendan said. “I want the money. You can’t be a stuntman forever.” He turned to the new woman and extended his red-splattered hand. “I’m Jendan, by the way.”
“I’m Lenore.” She took his hand and gave him a smile, revealing a gap between her front teeth
Broke-ass bitch, I categorized automatically and then felt a twinge of guilt. “What do you do, Lenore?”
“I’m a psychic.”
I laughed, surprised. “A psychic, huh?”
She focused her gaze on me, sharp and bird-like. “Don’t believe me? I can tell your future. Give me your hand.”
Oh boy. Here we go. I obediently extended my dirty hand, giving Jendan a wry look. First we were rooming in a haunted house, and now one of the House Guests was a psychic. What next?
Lenore’s finger traced down the center of my palm. “You’re very athletic and you love to dance.”
I snatched my hand away, giving a nervous laugh. “You got that wrong. I’m a klutz. Jendan will tell you all about how I fell on him.” God, way to sell me out on day one, lady.
“So what do you do for a living, Kandis?” Jendan asked me.
“I’m a student,” I lied.
“No, you’re not,” Lenore said.
I wondered how bad it would look if I attacked a psychic on the first day? I just kept smiling tightly and ignored her. “Whatever you say, Lenore.”
“You’re also going to find your true love in this house,” Lenore told me. “I know these kinds of things.”
“I’m not here to fall in love,” I protested, and that was the truth. I wanted that money.
Lenore shrugged and wandered away.
Jendan and I exchanged a look, and I twirled a finger at my ear, indicating questionable sanity. “So I thought Brodie would be the worst one to partner with. Now I’m not so sure.”
Jendan chuckled at my words. “She does seem a few bats shy of a belfry. Speaking of, where is your partner?”
“Somewhere out there flirting with Sunnie.” I shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t care. As far as I’m concerned, I’m playing this game solo.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Oh?” I perked up. Jendan looked as if he was here to play the game to win, just like me. Some of the people here seemed as if they were on the show to hang out or hook up. Mactors. Jendan was here with ambition—it was evident in every line of his face. He was a kindred spirit. “What are you suggesting?”
He gave me a subtle smile, glancing around to see if anyone else was looking our way. No one was. “You have to have someone to trust in this game. You and me—final two deal. Secret alliance. We take each other to the end.”
“I like the way you think.”
“Like I said, I’ve got your back,” Jendan said.
“I’ve got yours,” I agreed quietly, and then I leaned in. “So who’s your partner?”
“Marla,” he said. “Short hair. About thirty.”
“Soccer mom?”
“That’s her,” he said, grinning. “She’s nice. I just worry she won’t be great in challenges.”
“You don’t know that,” I told him, glancing at the showers again. They were still in there. And men said women took a long time showering? They’d clearly never met Mickey or Casper.
“Well, look out for Marla. She’s spear-heading the ‘get out Katy, Liam, and Brodie’ movement.”
“I’ll look out for her,” I told him. “Thanks for the heads up.”
I wanted them gone as much as the next person, but since I was saddled with Brodie, I needed them around. As long as Katy and Liam were here, they’d be a bigger target than Brodie because they’d already won money. And I didn’t want to be the first one out the door.
“Kandis, please come to the confession booth,” a voice piped in through the intercom. “Kandis, please come to the confession booth.”
“Ugh. I can’t even shower first?” I made a face and hopped down from the counter. “Save me some hot water, Jendan.”
“No promises,” he called back after me, and I padded through the house in dirty, bare feet, a towel wrapped around my dirty, sticky body.
There was a locked door in the living room with a red light on it. It flicked to green as I watched, and I tested the handle. It opened, and I stepped through, eyeing my surroundings. There was a long, shadowy hall, and at the far end of the hall, there was a door labeled “PRIVATE”.
The confessional. I headed toward it and knocked. No answer. I tested the handle, opened the door, and saw a comfy chair seated in front of a half a dozen cameras and a TV screen with the House Guests logo, just like in the living room. I unwrapped my towel, laid it on the chair so I wouldn’t get it dirty, and then thumped into the seat.