All I can think about is Megan and what we did yesterday. It was incredible. I never would have thought that I would want to share a woman like that. Especially with Tristan. But if I’m being honest, I liked it. Seeing how fully Megan gave herself over to both of us, and how she was obviously experiencing the most intense pleasure of her life.

It was fucking amazing.

My dick is hard just thinking about it.

A knock on my door distracts me from my daydream, and when I open it, I find Megan standing there.

“Hey,” she says, a little timidly.

“Hey, sexy.” I grin and reach for her, pulling her inside and shutting the door behind her. “To what do I owe the exquisite pleasure of your hot little body in my room?”

She laughs a little, rolling her eyes. “So crazy.”

I grab her by the hips and pull her into me, letting her feel how hard my cock is, straining even more than it was before she got here now that we’re alone in my room.

“Crazy about you.” I flash a flirty smile.

Megan just looks at me for a minute. “Really?”

I feel my brow wrinkle. “Really what?”

She steps out of my embrace and puts a little distance between us. “How do you really feel about me, Madden? I need to know.”

She’s serious. I can tell. Gone is the fun Megan that I’ve gotten to know. The wild one that drives me insane with desire and need. The woman that I know I’m falling for. But I don’t know how she’ll handle me telling her that.

“I know you’re having a hard time, Megan,” I say gently, trying not to let my jealousy come into play. I don’t like thinking that she might not choose me. That she might end up with Tristan. Just the thought of that has my blood practically boiling.

“You think?” She gives me a feisty little look, and I grin again. Sassy, sexy Megan hasn’t gone too far.

“What’s this about?”

She wrings her hands and bites her lip. Obviously this is bothering her. “Just tell me, Madden. Do you just want to fuck me? Are you just trying to play this game and get me to fall for you so you can have one more virgin on your scorecard? Or do you actually care? Are your feelings real?”

She looks so serious, and also so vulnerable. I feel bad for her. She’s been put in a really tough situation. I never would have thought coming into this house that something like this could actually happen. That I could actually start caring about one of the women in the house. But I’ve never felt about someone the way I feel about her.

Yet I know it’s not that simple. It’s not a matter of me telling her I care about her, and her saying the same. Tristan is a very real complication.

But I can’t bring myself to resent him anymore. Not after what happened yesterday. It feels almost like even though we’ve always competed for the prize, always wanting to one-up the other, that we’ve now found the ultimate prize. The woman we both want. And we want her badly enough that we were willing to share.

Is that something we can do again? Or even make a go of? I have no idea how that would work. But I know I’m not willing to give her up. And I don’t want her to feel hurt over Tristan. If being with both of us like yesterday makes her happy, then I’m okay with that. But I don’t know how to tell her that. Or what she’d think about it. Maybe it was a one time thing for her.

I scrape a hand over my face. I’ve been silent for too long, and the look she’s giving me twists my stomach in knots. Makes my chest tighten. Like me not saying anything at all is hurting her.

“Megan, I want you to be happy. That’s what really matters.”

“No,” she insists. “That’s not all that matters. And that’s not what I asked you.” She starts to pace around the room, getting more and more agitated. “You have no idea how difficult this is for me, Madden. Choosing between you and Tristan is practically impossible.”

I don’t know if that makes me feel good that she obviously wants me just as much, or if it hurts that she doesn’t want me more. The whole situation is fucked up. I wish we weren’t even on this stupid reality show anymore so we could just be together and figure things out without all this pressure. And suddenly, I want to make it clear to her that none of this bullshit from the show really matters.

“Look, Megan, I know this game is important to you. Winning this apartment and the prize money and all that. But I want you to know that you don’t have to worry about that. Do you get what I’m saying?”

She looks at me like she’s afraid to take me seriously, shaking her head slightly.

I go to her and take her in my arms again, pulling her close, tilting her chin up and cupping her jaw in my hand so that she has to look at me.

“You know why?”

“Why?” she whispers, and I can feel her pulse thundering underneath my fingers.

“Because I can take care of you. You don’t need to win. I told you before. I’m a winning bet. If you have me, you don’t need any of it—not the apartment, the money, nothing. I’ll take care of you.”

Her eyes cloud with confusion. “Why would you do that?”

I take a deep breath and prepare myself to take a leap. “You asked me if I wanted to fuck you or if my feelings are real. The answer is yes.”

“Yes…”

“Yes,” I repeat firmly. “I want both. But neither have anything to do with this show. It might have started out as a game, and I was just playing along. But somewhere along the way it stopped being a game. I’ve fallen for you, Megan. Hard. I want to be with you. I want to take care of you.”

She’s looking up at me with such disbelief and uncertainty, but somewhere under there I see a bit of hope and excitement. And I don’t want to say it again, but I have to. Just so she knows. Because it’s the truth. Even if I don’t end up with her.

“I mean everything I just said. But more than anything, I just want you to be happy.” I stroke her cheek with my fingers. “So do what you have to do to be happy, Megan. Fuck everyone else. Make the choice that makes you happy.”