Chapter Twenty-Three

There was no way to know how long the knocking had been going on when it finally woke Elliot. Ginger didn’t even stir beside him. Glancing around, the evidence of what they’d done all evening would take more than a few seconds to clean up on his own. A few discarded condoms, ripped pieces of wrappers, his clothes, her clothes, no telling how many wet spots—he nudged her. “Someone’s at the door. Wake up.”

Without opening her eyes, she reached for him, attempting to draw him close. He took hold of her wrist and gave it a tug, forcing her to pay attention. “Ginger—someone’s at the door.”

“What time is it?”

He checked the clock on his bedside table. It was midnight.

“Elliot—open up!” Kat’s voice got their attention.

Ginger pushed herself up on her hands as Elliot swung his legs off the bed.

“Shit.” He grabbed for everything he needed to hide. The wrappers, the clothes, Ginger’s ponytail holder. He threw all of it on the bed, pulling at the sheets to conceal the evidence. In doing so, he exposed Ginger’s entire naked body. Overwhelmed by an urge to protect her, he scooped her off the bed, planting her firmly on her feet. “Get in the bathroom and shut the door—I’ll deal with it.”

Wild-eyed, she looked around for her clothes, but they were already wrapped up in the sheets. Spotting one of her shoes on the floor beside the bed, she grabbed it and ran, bare-assed into the bathroom, closing the door behind her with a quiet click. Elliot grabbed his pants from the floor as the knocking grew louder and more persistent.

“I’m coming!” Glancing back at his sex-ravaged bed, he tensed. He couldn’t let anyone in this room.

Unlocking the dead bolt, he opened the door a crack. “I was sleeping.”

Kat wasn’t alone. Next to her, Cassie stood with an expectant smile, dimples on full display, and a gift-wrapped package in her hands.

Both women gave his bare upper body the once-over. They were alone, without cameras, and in a twisted flashback, Elliot remembered this was exactly how he and Jenna had gotten to see each other so often last season—Kat, shepherding them around under the radar—like it had been one of her job responsibilities to facilitate conjugal visitation to the participants.

“Can I help you?” Elliot asked like he didn’t know exactly what was going on.

“Cassie has a gift for you. I told her I’d show her to your room.”

Cassie presented the package. It trembled in her outstretched hands. “They’re macarons.”

When Elliot opened the door wide enough to receive the box, Kat slipped past him. Elliot whirled around, attempting to halt her progress with his voice. “Now’s not a great time—I was about to take a shower—”

Kat glanced at the closed bathroom door, then to the bed, taking in the scene. Good thing she didn’t have a blacklight, but he wasn’t so sure the lack of it would save him.

Cassie had come into the room as well, frowning at the well-used bed with Kat. There was, indeed, a wet spot.

“Elliot,” Kat spun to face him. “Are we alone?”

“Yes. Why?”

Cassie’s lips pressed firmly together. She rolled back her shoulders and marched over to the bed. Grabbing the wadded-up sheet, she shook it to reveal the mess. A condom wrapper settled on the floor, right next to Ginger’s pink satin panties.

She dropped the sheet like it was burning her fingertips and covered her face with both hands. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “I am so stupid.”

Kat planted her feet, fists on hips, glaring up at Elliot. “Did Jenna get to you first?”

“Excuse me?”

“Where is she?”

“Nowhere. What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on, Elliot. You’ve obviously been fucking somebody—where is she?”

“Look, I don’t have any idea where Jenna is—and as for what I do when I’m alone in my room, it’s not any of your goddamn business, Kat.”

“Alone?” Cassie asked, Ginger’s bra dangling from her hand.

Elliot backpedaled. He could have handled this easily if it were only Kat finding him out, but having Cassie see everything—it was a betrayal. Every woman there had given up something for the season, for him. He was a selfish piece of shit.

“I should have left this circus last week while I still had an ounce of pride.” She flung the pink bra at his face as she stormed out of the room, the door slamming behind her.

“Cassie—Fuck.” It wasn’t like he could go after her. Ginger was still in the—

Shit.

With his attention on Cassie, he’d missed the fact that Kat was making a beeline for the bathroom. The door was already open.

“Are you kidding me?” Kat shouted.

Elliot, as he smacked face first into rock-bottom, picked up Ginger’s bra and panties while Kat stared slack-jawed into the bathroom at what he could only assume was Ginger in a towel.

Ginger, of course, didn’t take the easy way out. No, not his girl. Instead of a desperate cry of “I can explain,” she came out swinging. “What the fuck are you bringing Cassie in here for? Didn’t we talk about this?”

“Excuse me? You’re questioning my morals? Right now? Here? Dressed like that?”

Ginger shoved past her, back into the main room of the suite, a hotel robe cinched tightly around her waist. Her face was deeply red, and she had no more words, having taken her best shot and realizing it hadn’t cut it, he imagined. She picked though the debris of the bedroom to find her clothes.

Kat tracked Ginger’s movements, her expression still frozen in shock. “You’re fucking him? Ginger, what the hell? Why? How long has this been going on?”

Ginger didn’t look up at him as Elliot handed over her lingerie. The humiliated slump of her shoulders tore him in half. “Kat—would you mind? No one invited you in.”

Kat’s head reared back, and she looked at him like she’d forgotten he was even there. “You son of a bitch. How dare you?”

“Kat, stop.” Ginger, with an armful of clothes, faced her co-producer. “None of this is his fault.”

That was pretty far-flung from the actual truth. He couldn’t let her take all the blame. Or any of it. He stepped between the two women. “It’s completely my fault. If you can give her a minute to get dressed, we can talk.”

Kat let go a harsh breath of disbelief. The look of shock on her face hadn’t changed since she opened the bathroom door, like this was all too much to process. “Fine.” She threw up her hands. “Fine. Goddammit, Ginger.” On that note, she left them alone. To her credit, she didn’t slam the door.

Elliot turned back to Ginger who was getting dressed like the building was about to collapse.

Her hands shook as she attempted to zip her pants.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Why? I did this. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have come here. It was too big a risk, and I…” She covered her face with both hands as a sob wrenched its way out of her.

He closed the distance between them with two strides and pulled her into his arms. She stiffened, like she couldn’t let herself hug him back. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and tried to come up with something to say that wouldn’t sound like total bullshit. Something other than “it’ll be okay,” when it obviously wouldn’t be.

“I love you,” he said.

She sniffed and pulled away.

“I’ll figure this out,” he promised.

“It’s over, Elliot.” Backing away from him, she wiped at her face with the fingertips of both hands before turning for the door. “Even if I can convince Kat this was a one-time thing, I’ll have to go, and you’ll have to finish the show and it’s over.”

“Ginger—don’t give up—”

“This was a fantasy. Don’t you get it? It’s time for both of us to wake the fuck up.”