Dating Mr. Darcy - Kate O'Keeffe Page 0,64

Camille. She wants to win and she’s not the kind of girl to take a backseat.

But then, he lifts his hand and pulls her in closer, and it becomes clear he’s kissing her back.

I look away quickly and push down the unpleasant feelings rising inside of me.

Kennedy nudges me. “You okay, Em?”

“Fine,” I mumble.

I’m convincing no one.

She places her hand on mine. “You’re not fine.”

I stick on a smile. “He’s allowed to kiss anyone he wants. This is a dating show.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “It’s fine not to be okay with this. We’re in an insane environment. You’d never watch a guy you liked kiss another girl in the real world. Not without throwing your drink in his face, anyway”

“You’re right. It’s all a bubble. It’s a heat-of-the-moment thing, that’s all.”

“Atta girl.”

Why did it have to happen about five seconds after I admitted to my feelings for him on camera?

“I think it’s in bad taste, really. If she wanted to kiss him, why couldn’t she go do it somewhere else without us all seeing?”

“You know Camille. Little Miss Competitive.” I take a quick glance in their direction and a wave of relief washes over me as I see the kiss is now done. Camille’s hanging onto his arm, beaming out at everyone.

I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and pretend to relax. Inside, I’m back to being that tightly-wound ball of string.

I know it shouldn’t bother me. Heck, it’s not like we’ve even had a romantic moment that’s led to a kiss. But damn it if I don’t feel like packing my bags right now and running away from here. And doing my best to forget Sebastian, the show, Martinston, and this whole darn thing.

Chapter 21

It doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t bother me.

If you say it enough, does it come true?

The image of Sebastian and Camille engaged in a game of tonsil hockey keeps flashing in front of my eyes. No matter how many times I picture it, it doesn’t get any less horrendous.

The kiss wasn’t like the time Shelby kissed him after she pretended to faint. That was so obviously one-sided, and lasted all of a second or two.

And back then, I didn’t feel the way I do about him now. Back then, all I wanted to do was get out of this place and get back to my real life.

This kiss was different. He participated.

I ease under the covers and take a deep, kiss-cleansing breath. Well, that’s the plan, anyway. It doesn’t work, and before you can say “Emma is being the most pathetic version of herself ever,” I’m back on that terrace in my mind, watching them kiss once more.

Dang it! Why does it have to bother me so much? I’ve got no right to Sebastian. None of us have. Sure, he and I have spent time together, and I’ve got to know him in a way I never thought I would. But he’s also spending time getting to know all of us.

I’m not special.

No one in their right mind would be a contestant on a reality TV dating show and expect an uncomplicated journey to fall in love. Well, maybe Shelby would with her ideas of destiny, but no rational person would. The entire premise of the show is for Sebastian to choose one of us, and for that to happen, he’s got to spend time with each of us—and indulge in some tonsil hockey with my archnemesis, it would seem.

I flip over onto my back and stare at the bedroom ceiling. I need Rational Emma back. The Emma who was only ever going to come on this show to promote Timothy. The Emma who thought Sebastian was a pompous, overprivileged douchebag.

The Emma whose heart was safe.

The fact that there was a card ceremony after the infamous kiss and poor Lori was sent home after spending less than a day here in England barely gets any screen time in my mind. Instead, while Kennedy sleeps the sleep of the unbothered in the other bed, I’m tossing and turning, twisted up in jealousy over one lousy kiss.

And I hate myself for it.

There’s a knock at the door and I sit bolt upright in bed. I freeze, wondering if I’m hearing things, the silence in the room enveloping me once more. Then, I hear the knock again. I whip the covers off, and pad in my bare feet over to the door. I crack it open and peer out into the