and close my eyes once I put a feel-good show on. The throbbing in my temples only eases when I lower the volume and loosen my body to settle into the cushions.
I’m not sure what time it is when I hear a soft voice ask, “Can’t sleep?”
Flickering my eyes open, I see a shirtless Easton in black sweatpants with a glass of water in his hands. “Headache.”
He sits in the armchair. “Take something for it?” Sipping his water, he looks at me with wary eyes. “You’re pale.”
I don’t tell him that I’ve been staying up late doing homework, grading papers, and thinking about Carter and the dinner he asked me out on the day before. Stress and overthinking have a lot to do with the current state of my temples. “I took some already. Thanks.”
He makes an affirmative noise.
“Can’t sleep either?” At first glance, he doesn’t look that tired. He got home early and went upstairs after saying hi to Ainsley and me where I was helping her do homework in the living room.
“No.”
I don’t ask if he wants to talk because I know he would if he wanted to. “Sorry.”
He scrubs at his clean-shaven jaw. “It’s cool. What are you watching?” His eyes travel to the television screen, showcasing one of my favorites. “Looks girly.”
It’s a weird reality TV show that I honestly didn’t think I’d like but do. “It is, but it’s not bad. A group of people get put into this building without any interaction face to face. They can only talk through text message.”
He blinks, then makes a face.
I stifle a laugh. “It’s a guilty pleasure show. Some people catfish the others, but there’s a lot of genuine people who just remain themselves throughout the game. They vote each other out using an anonymous rating system.”
“So, it’s Big Brother meets Survivor.”
Cracking a smile, I answer, “Pretty much.”
He doesn’t say anything else as he watches it with me, making noises when somebody says something weird, or the players overly flirt to build alliances. Easton isn’t a flirt, not an intentional one. But I wonder if he realizes he doesn’t need to be. All it takes is him giving somebody an intense look before panties everywhere melt right off women’s bodies.
I snort to myself over the thought, catching his attention. “What’s so funny?”
Trying to pass it off like somebody did something funny wouldn’t even work because nothing interesting is happening right now. “I was just trying to picture you in the game.”
He remains quiet.
“You’d be voted off pretty quick.”
“Why?”
I look over at him, sitting up slightly so I see him better. “Well, you’d have the looks advantage with the ladies if you chose to use your real pictures. But it’s the personality that keeps people in the game. Like the bromance between Max and Alex. They’re forming connections. You know, using words.”
One of his brows lifts. “Are you saying I don’t know how to use my words?”
I click my tongue. “I’m saying it takes somebody with a strong personality to win this sort of game. Someone who’s willing to flirt with the right people and befriend the others to keep themselves safe.”
Another throaty noise comes from him. “I would make it at least a couple days. There are better ways to get people to like me if my personality doesn’t do the trick.”
Rolling my eyes, I remind him of something important. “You can’t sleep with the contestants, Easton. There are cameras literally everywhere in the apartments. Even if they let you meet them face-to-face, you’d just be creating porn.”
“And who doesn’t love porn?”
Both my eyebrows raise over that question as heat creeps up the back of my neck. I guess he has me there, but I choose not to comment on it. “If it makes you feel better, I’d probably be voted off in the beginning too.”
“I don’t buy that. If you go in as yourself, people will love you.” His voice is uncharacteristically soft as he delivers the sweet sentiment that makes my lips stretch upward.
Headache easing, I loosen a sigh. “That’s sweet, but I feel like the downside would be my alliance with the guys. They’re all flirting to try making the right connections. Almost all the real people playing are doing it to stay in. I’m a terrible flirt. We’re talking awkward.”
“Now I feel like I’ve missed out,” he muses, picking up his water to finish it.
I shake my head. “Trust me, I’m saving you. You’d never want to talk to me again.”