One To Watch(67)
“Maybe the fact that you wanted me from the beginning is the reason I don’t trust you.”
Luc looked genuinely confused. “Why would you say this?”
“Because it makes it seem like you have an agenda! You have a lot to gain by being here, and more to gain the longer you stay. You’re one of the most attractive men on this show, one of the most attractive men I’ve ever met. I don’t date men who look like you, and I can only presume you don’t date women who look like me. So what am I supposed to think, Luc? That you’re some perfect prince come to rescue me from my nightmare of a love life? Or that you came here with a goal, and you didn’t waste any time setting out to achieve it?”
“Is that what you thought when you met me?” he asked quietly. “Is it what you thought the first time I kissed you?”
“I thought you were playing me.” Bea shrugged. “Maybe I was right.”
“And you think this because you believe I cannot be attracted to you. This is how you see yourself?”
Bea wanted to speak, but tears threatened. “It’s how men like you see me,” she choked out, and Luc’s face crumpled, his anger suddenly gone.
“I understand, I understand,” he murmured, pulling her close. “You are not so tough after all, my Bea.”
“Who ever said I was tough?” she joked, burying her face in his chest.
“I think you are beautiful,” he whispered. “Your face, your body, your laugh. Can you believe this?”
Bea looked up at him, trying to read his face. “I don’t know.”
“Hmm. I think perhaps this is good news for me.”
Bea frowned. “How so?”
“Because this means I will have to prove how much I want you.”
He rested the pads of his fingers lightly on her cheekbones, gently circling the contours of her face. The gesture was so small, so intimate, that Bea felt shaky—she closed her eyes. He leaned down to kiss her, and with no cameras, no makeup (hell, no bra), it felt like something honest and apart from the artifice of the show, like instead of a luxury riad in Morocco, they could be in his apartment in New York, or her place in L.A. Everything was slow, languid; none of it felt urgent or performed. He kissed her for a long time, and then he held her, still standing, breathing slowly.
“I’m glad you came over,” she whispered.
He smiled and kissed the crown of her head. “So am I.”
TEXT MESSAGE TRANSCRIPT, MARCH 27: MAIN SQUEEZE PRODUCER THREAD
Shareeza [6:38am]: Is Bea finished in wardrobe yet? We’re supposed to load out in ten
Mike [6:38am]: She is DRAGGING this morning, she’s so tired and cranky and everything’s taking forever
Mike [6:39am]: Which makes no sense, didn’t we wrap her early last night?
Jeannie [6:39am]: One of the PAs ran into Luc in the hall at 4am
Jeannie [6:40am]: Related???
Shareeza [6:41am]: Lauren, are you seeing this? What do you want us to do?
Mike [6:44am]: Bea just rejected outfit #4. Lauren?? Where are you???
Lauren [6:49am]: Was with Luc trying to figure out what went down last night
Lauren [6:49am]: (He went to Bea’s room and NO ONE caught it! Come on guys!!!)
Lauren [6:50am]: Reezy, get down to wardrobe and tell Alison we’re going right now—we’ve only got the camels for five hours
Shareeza [6:51am]: Copy! Bea says if someone doesn’t get her an iced coffee she’s breaking up with everyone
Lauren [6:51am]: Honestly same
Bea was absolutely exhausted after her night with Luc, but once some blessed PA procured her caffeine and the production crew headed out of the city into the fresh air of the mountains, she started to feel a bit better. The Atlas Mountains were stunning—blue and jagged, blanketed in thick green groves on their western side where rain fell, rocky and barren to the east where Morocco abruptly faded into endless sand. Bea journeyed up the side of a mountain in a 4x4 with their guide for the day, Rahim, who had a truly lush beard and a warm, mischievous manner that made Bea laugh—something she sorely needed after all the emotional drama of the night before.
“Riding a camel is basically like riding a horse,” Rahim explained over the whip of the mountain winds, “but the meat is much gamier.”
“I feel like you switched thoughts there, Rahim.”
“If the trek goes south and we need to eat our camels to survive, I just want you to know what you’re getting yourself into—a nice, smoky flavor.”
They made it to a little plateau near the base of the mountain, where Asher, Jefferson, and the camera crew were already set up to film Bea’s arrival.
“Hi guys!” She waved, inelegantly dismounting the 4x4—Jefferson rushed over to steady her.
“Take it easy, we’re not even on the camels yet.” Jefferson let out a big laugh, and Bea was reminded momentarily of that feeling she’d had on the first night when he called her “little lady,” when she couldn’t quite tell whether he was laughing at her expense. But he flashed a broad grin and kissed her on the cheek, and she dismissed the thought; it was genuinely nice to see him.
“Hello, Bea.”
Bea looked up to see that Asher was still several feet away—he made no move to come closer.