“What are we selling?” Jessica asks from two rows behind me.

“You’re selling you, Jessica. Each of us is manning a kissing booth today. One dollar buys a kiss. The winner has to earn more money than me and all of the other ladies.”

“How are we supposed to sell more kisses than you? Look at you,” Jessica coos.

“I have confidence you’ll make a killing, Jess.”

As we step off the bus, Miles hands us each a chapstick and flashes a leering grin.

“Is she serious?” Sadie motions to Jessica’s booth, where the line is probably a hundred deep. We were each allowed to make one phone call and have a friend bring a single item to help us in our challenge today. Jessica received a bikini top from her friend—if you can call it that. Technically, I think “bikini top” is too generous; it’s more like nipple covers. Me? I asked Sadie to bring me a box of Altoids. Not my most well-thought-out plan.

I kiss a young boy on the cheek and stuff his dollar into the box next to me. I actually have a pretty decent line, especially considering I’m wearing a tank top that covers my boobs. I look over to Jessica’s booth. I gotta hand it to her, she certainly knows how to work it. Leaning over at the waist to reach each tongue-wagging guy, her ass cheeks hang out from her short shorts almost as much as her boobs flow over from her sad excuse for a top. Each guy gets a full pucker kiss on the lips. Even the fourteen-year-olds. There are going to be a lot of wet dreams in Santa Monica tonight.

Two hours later, the director calls for a fifteen-minute break so the crew and contestants can all use the bathroom.

“How’s it going over there?” I ask Flynn as we meet in the hall walking out of our respective bathrooms.

“Aside from the sixty-year-old who stuck her tongue down my throat and the fifteen-year-old who left gum on my lips? Not bad. You?”

I laugh. “I had a seventy-year-old man who took a selfie of us kissing to send to his wife because she pissed him off this morning, and I’ve kissed the same thirteen-year-old boy on the cheek eleven times. He keeps going back on line and trying to turn his head to catch my lips with his.”

“Kid’s got good taste. I would’ve been on your line a couple of dozen times too at that age.”

“Not Jessica’s?” I tease.

“Nah. I’m more the girl-next-door type. I like to use my imagination to picture what’s underneath the shirt.” Flynn’s eyes drop. He starts at my toes, his eyes lingering at my breasts, before his gaze locks with mine.

“Like what you’re imagining?” I arch an eyebrow.

“More than you know.” He winks.

Chapter ten

Cooper

My car veers off the Pacific Coast Highway as if it has a mind of its own. I’ve kept away the last week, at least in person. Although it hasn’t stopped me from obsessing over the dailies I make Helen have on my desk every morning by seven. I’m beginning to feel like a voyeur. Slowing down the parts where Kate’s on screen, analyzing her every move when she’s around Dickhead.

I’ve been with women who get possessive too early; it makes me cut ties quickly, deeming them a stalker when it slips they knew where I was the night before without my telling them. Yet here I am, pulling up to the Santa Monica Pier like the stalker I’ve become. I watched the dailies this morning, told myself I was just going to go for a drive, put the top down and clear my head. I’m even bullshitting myself.

There’s a crowd off to the left. It’s not hard to find the taping when I see a hoard of predominantly boys and men. Kissing booth. I want to kick Miles’s ass. It’s hard enough to think about Kate kissing Dickhead, let alone a few hundred in line. Thanks, Miles. Way to go, little brother.

“I guess this stunt is a success,” I say disparagingly to Miles when I’ve finally made my way through the crowd of horny assholes.

“Free publicity. This shit will be all over the news tonight.” My brother beams with pride.

“What’s the winner get?”

“Immunity from going home this week.”

“So they don’t have to grovel at the asshole bachelor’s feet to stay for a few more days?”

“What’s your problem with Flynn? He’s a good guy.” Miles looks at me, finally peeling his eyes from his prized production.

“A good guy? What kind of a man goes on a television show to date twenty women?”

“Not everyone lives a golden life and has women throwing themselves at their feet, my brother.”

I ignore him. My eyes focused on only one thing. Across the pier, Kate smiles and kisses a boy on the cheek, but he tries to turn his head and catch her lips. He almost manages to do it too. Kate leans in and whispers something to the boy and he beams. Two seconds later he runs to the back of the line again, digging a dollar from his pocket. I smile as she kisses a few teens innocently on the cheek. Then a muscle-head who must have escaped from Venice Beach saunters up to the table. My teeth clench so tight, I give myself an instant headache.

“Saw you pulling out of the parking lot with Kate in your car the other night.” Miles turns to watch me.

I shrug, keeping my stare straight ahead and try to sound casual. “Found her with her hood open. Car problems. I gave her a lift.”

“Camera loves her. But she seems to have lost some of her interest in Flynn. Think we need to script her to get back in the mood.”

“It’s disturbing the way you think you’re a puppeteer, Miles.” I turn to glare at my brother.