The Reunion by Kayla Olson(57)
“Well, you’ve earned every bit of it.” His smile is sweet, sincere, but with just a touch of sadness. He probably thinks he’s hiding it.
An idea hits me out of nowhere, and it’s the best one I’ve had in ages. “I wonder if Vienna has anyone in mind for the love interest yet—you would be so perfect!” I blurt, before thinking twice. It might be a little out of his comfort zone, but I honestly think he’d bring so much emotional depth to the role.
His face lights up, surprised. He’s totally and obviously intrigued by the suggestion. “You think that could work? Are you close enough to her that you could bring it up?”
“I’m positive I could bring it up.”
“That would be amazing, Liv. Wow.” He stares into the pool, eyes reflecting its sparkle. A role like this could seriously transform his career.
All at once, he reaches for my hand and pulls me up to standing in one swift motion. “Have I ever told you how much I like you?” he says, wrapping his arms around me.
I put mine up around his neck, pull him closer. “I think you might have mentioned it.” I say, grinning. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”
The next thing I know, his lips are on mine, soft and gentle but hungry. A wave of heat floods through me as I press a little harder, tasting blackberries and spice from the merlot. I already knew his heather-gray V-neck was soft to the touch, but only once my hand is on his stomach do I notice how thin it is—I feel every chiseled line underneath, every solid curve.
His fingers trace the thin straps of my romper. It seemed like a good idea at the time—it’s a super-flattering cut, fitted at the waist, and the paprika-red color looks fantastic with my skin tone and hair color—but now it only feels like an obstacle, one we’re probably both all too eager to remove.
“Can you swim in that?” he whispers, breathless between kisses.
“Can I? Probably.” Another kiss, another stolen breath. “Should I? Probably not the best idea for the ride home.”
And that’s how we end up in only our underwear behind the waterfall in his pool, which has a hidden alcove with a bench cut into the rock. It’s romantic and beautiful and louder than I expected, every crash of the water echoing from the rocks. This is hardly the first time we’ve been this close while wearing this little clothing, but it turns out context is everything: this is far from being on set, acting out scripted lines for the whole world to see, and I am into it.
Unfortunately, it quickly becomes clear that the design of the hidden alcove isn’t super optimal for much of anything other than sitting side by side. The bench is narrow, and the rocks behind us are rough—still, we try to make it work. Ransom plants kisses down the length of my neck, but we both end up laughing because the position is so awkward. He slides off the bench to give us more room—we’re in the shallow end, and he’s tall—but he immediately gets a face full of waterfall, which makes us laugh even harder, so loudly the neighbors can probably hear it echoing from over Ransom’s high ivy walls.
Suddenly, the thought of other people hearing us, even though they’d have no way to know it’s me out here with Ransom, pulls me out of the moment and straight back to reality.
It was such a good moment. I hate that I’m about to ruin it.
“What?” Ransom says, sensing the shift. “What happened?”
“I think Sasha-Kate knows about us,” I say. “And your dad…”
He runs a hand through his sopping-wet hair. Neither of us is laughing now. “People will have to find out eventually, right?”
My heart swells: it’s still too soon to know exactly what’s going on between us, but his words feel weighty to me—whatever this is, he doesn’t see it as a fling, or a secret to be kept for any reason other than the pressure it will put on us both.
“Obviously,” I say with a smile, hoping he can see how very badly I want us to last, that I have no interest in flings or secrets for secrets’ sake. “It’s just… the fandom is going to go wild over this, right? Remember how things blew up when we posted a single selfie together? And, I don’t know. You can’t please them all, and I know it’s not the point to please them all, but it’s just nice having others out of the mix. For now, at least.”
Forever, if I had my way, but even I know that can never be our reality.
I don’t say this, because I don’t want to make him worry for no reason, but what’s happened to Gemma in the wake of her breakup with Ransom is legit terrifying—what if things don’t work out between us for some reason? What if the fans turn on me like they’ve turned on her? And honestly, that could happen even if things do go well. I’ve noticed a worrying number of comments from random people who are convinced they’re meant to be with Ransom, and feel threatened by anyone who stands in their way.
This is why—one reason, anyway—I prefer to keep private things private. No one else should have a say in who we love, how we love. If we ultimately decide we’re not in love.
He pushes up to sit beside me, sighs. “You’re right. I wish you weren’t.”
We sit in silence, watching the waterfall crash into the pool, alone together in our secret alcove for at least a little while longer. He’s right, too—if this continues, we’ll have to tell people. Probably sooner rather than later, especially if I’m going to go out on a limb to ask Vienna if he can play my love interest in the new film.