Hating the Book Boyfriend (Book Boyfriend Builders)

6. JoJo

CHAPTER 6

JoJo

I 'm just getting ready to sign the liability waiver when it's suddenly snatched from under my pen. I don't even need to look to know who the thief is. "Colton, give it back," I grind out, annoyed.

"I need to ensure you're not signing your life away."

I steal it back. "It doesn't matter what it says. I'm signing it regardless. Besides, I wouldn't sue someone for an activity I willingly subjected myself to. I know the risks."

I quickly sign it before he can take it back or argue it further. Nothing he can say can change my mind. Three grand would definitely help me pay a lot of bills, and I feel confident this is one competition I can win. Most of the people here are from the book convention. It's not like I'm surrounded by athletes who have trained for this type of competition. I just have to stay in the water the longest.

"Okay, that's it. Contestants line up," Sandman yells over the crowd, and I head to where he's standing beside the sunken water feature that snakes through the back courtyard. It can't be more than four feet deep, winding through the patio and the gardens. An assistant is setting out ten towels along a section of the shallow moat-like feature. "The challenge is simple: whoever remains in the water the longest walks away with three thousand dollars in cash. All contestants must strip down to their clothes. No coats or jackets. When you signed the waiver, you also agreed to be filmed. This entire contest will be shared across all my social media pages."

A few of the contestants start stripping down to more than just their clothes, and I can't help but roll my eyes. Romance readers go crazy for Sandman. Freddie Krueger haunted our nightmares for decades, killing you in your dreams and reality. Sandman haunts your fantasies, bringing them to life in your dreamscape and reality. I'll admit the premise is alluring. It's similar to what the girls and I are attempting to do with the BBB: bring our book boyfriends to life. That being said, I'm not into the mask thing. Sure, Sandman clearly works out. He sports the cloak with no t-shirt, just ripped abs, but I need more. What if he has terrible teeth or beady eyes? Those would be deal breakers for me. Once I've removed my coat and piled my things next to my spot, I look up to wait for more instruction only to find Colton standing beside Sandman, clearly in some type of heated conversation. Colton is gesturing with his hand toward the water and Sandman is rubbing his jaw. I swear he better not fuck this up for me. I'll be pissed if this thing gets called off, and I don't have a shot at winning that money. It's just like Colton Callahan to turn my plans to shit.

I close my eyes and try to start prepping for what's coming. One of the most complex parts of plunging is the mental piece. You have to accept that you will be uncomfortable for a minute, but it will be short-lived. The benefits afterward will outweigh the temporary discomfort that your body can handle. Considering some of these women are de-robing to their underwear tells me at least four of them are in this for another reason: to gain Sandman's eye. They will be in and out before I even settle into the water.

Hands grip my shoulders from behind. "Are you ready?" Colton asks.

"Why can't you just leave me alone? Yesterday, you wouldn't even share a room with me. Now you're like a gnat I can't squash. I really don't need any support from you, moral or otherwise, if you haven't noticed."

"Last call. If you don't think you can handle the challenge, you may step away from the edge. Otherwise, the countdown and filming will begin in ten seconds."

I start slipping my shoes off, knowing I'll want them dry when I get out when Colton's coat lands atop my pile of belongings.

"Why are you…" I slightly turn and catch him slipping off his shoes. "No, no, no, you are not ruining this for me, Callahan."

"You're right. I'm not," he says, stepping close to my back. "I'm helping."

"How is this helping? Have you ever polar plunged before?"

"No, but?—"

"There are no buts. You most definitely are not helping me." I elbow him in the side. "Now go away."

"Five, four, three, two, and plunge." Sandman's voice carries over the crowd, and we all enter the freezing cold water. There's a lot of hissing and cursing, and two people automatically step out. "You have five seconds to submerge, or you'll be disqualified," he adds.

I'm just preparing to sit when I feel Colton's arms wrap around my middle. "What are you doing? You're going to get me kicked out of the contest," I hiss.

"No, I'm not. You are if you don't let this happen and sit down with me," he snaps back.

"Fine," I clip before pushing back, catching him off guard and knocking us into the water. Shit, that's cold! I mentally shout, not wanting to give Colton any further ammunition to throw at me. I expected him to curse, yell, or hiss out his own discomfort, but instead he shocks the hell out of me and pulls me close against his front, before wrapping his legs over the tops of mine. My body immediately tenses under his touch. The hold is intimate whether he wants it to be or not. His arms wrap tighter around my center, slightly warming my insides in ways I didn't think his touch could.

I try to push it out of my mind, but when he tucks his face into my hair, I notice he's holding his breath. For a second, I consider that our proximity may be affecting him like it is me, but now is not the time to play head games. I have money to win, and holding your breath in frigid water won't help. "Don't hold your breath. Take long, slow, conscious breaths. In through your nose, and release it slowly through your mouth."

I take my own advice after giving the directions. This water is cold, though not as cold as expected given the snow. This snow crept up on us. This isn't the dead of winter, so the water hadn't gotten cold enough to freeze through, which means this temperature is likely somewhere in the thirties. It's still frigid, but it's also not unbearable if you remember to breathe through it. Three more girls exit quickly. That means we are down to five.

"I'm fine. I have my way. You have yours," he mutters through clenched teeth like he's pissed.

"Why are you even doing this? I didn't ask you to participate. In fact, I told you to go back to the room."

I feel his body shake around mine, and he squeezes me tighter before pushing our legs together to fight back the tremors. "You seemed adamant that you needed to win. I'm helping."

"How do you figure? Sniffing my hair isn't going to win me any points," I tease. I have to. Admitting that his head in the crook of my neck while his body is tangled around mine isn’t unbearable is not something I currently want to process.

"Funny..." his teeth chatter slightly. "Isn't it obvious? Body heat."

Another person hops out as Sandman calls out, "That's two minutes." He's walking up and down the water feature, filming all the contestants and commenting. Typically, I'd be acutely tuned in to his every word, knowing this will be used for socials. There's probably a good PR grab for me in all of this, but I can't focus on any of it—not with Colton's body glued to mine.

"Why does it feel like you've done this before?" Colton asks as he nuzzles past my hair, his hot breath now on my neck. He rests his lips close while he waits for my reply. I know I don't have goosebumps—it's literally impossible—but in their place, a trill runs down my spine.

"Because I have. I take ice baths. They help with my injury."

"I thought they were just something athletes do for recovering and building muscle.”

"Are you insinuating that you don't think I workout?"

"No…" He takes the liberty of slowly sliding his hand across my stomach before grabbing my hip. "I can feel that you're fit."

It takes more willpower than it should not to lean into his touch or tilt my neck in a silent offering for him to press his lips against it, but luckily, the desire is ripped away when the contestant beside us shouts, "Three grand isn't worth freezing to death, and they're cheating. Obviously, they're warmer together than any of us are apart."

I stay the course and do not let her words faze me. That's when Sandman says, "Nowhere on the flyer does it state you couldn't enter as a team. No rules have been broken."

Colton's lips brush against my skin before he says, "We only need to wait out two more."

"You probably shouldn't keep your face in the crook of my neck like that," I warn when I notice Sandman's camera zeroing in on us.

"Why's that? You're not catching feelings on me, are you, Estes?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Callahan. You're the one who was copping a feel less than five seconds ago?—"

"I wasn't copping a feel I was?—"

"You don't need to waste your excuses on me; I'm only mentioning it because we're being recorded, and your positioning looks…" I clear my throat, the thought coupled with the move choking me up. "Intimate."

"That's because it is intimate," comes out easily. "I'm not worried about his twenty thousand followers. The only thing I'm worried about is in my arms."

The way his words make my heart skip a beat feels pathetic. They shouldn't so easily be able to erase the years of torment.

"Try..." I clear my throat and start again when my voice comes out heavy. "Try one million followers," I correct.

The water sloshes around us as another contestant leaps out. "One more," his lips brush against the sensitive skin on my neck, and this time, I don't believe it's an accident. "You know what's worse than one million people believing a lie?"

"What?" I question so softly I'm not sure I even said it all.

"Not making the lie count. The way I see it, I'm damned either way, so I may as well do what I want." His lips press heavily on my shoulder, with the weight of his head.

From the outside looking in, it probably looks as though he's simply resting his head, and maybe he is. It's possible I'm spinning his words into more and his lips aren't taking liberties the way his hands did. I saw the headlines over the summer. They called into question his career, using his single bachelor life status as a reason to start digging into his past cases to see if he'd been sleeping his way into wins. I'm sure his words now are partly in reference to that. People see what they want to see. I know that's true, but what of his words? That last line, 'May as well do what I want,' has me second guessing all of this. Colton Callahan chose to wrap himself around me, and his lips are pressed into my shoulder in what feels like a kiss. Am I what he wants?

"We have a winner!" Sandman announces, as everything around me seems to happen slow and fast, all at once. I look to my left and see that the last girl we needed to wait out is wrapped in a towel. How did I miss her getting out? The heat at my back is tugged away, and hands grip me under my arms as I'm pulled up to stand. I slowly blink my eyes as Sandman extends his hand to help me out. No sooner than I'm on the ledge beside him, an assistant wraps multiple towels around me. People are moving quickly; bright lights from his cameras blur out faces, and voices bleed into one. I won. I'm the winner, but if that's true, why do I feel like I lost?

When I look up to find Colton, he's already disappearing through the crowd, sopping wet, coat and shoes in hand. That's when it hits me. I did lose something. Him.