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    The Contestant 3
    The Contestant 3
    The Contestant 3
    Ebook99 pages1 hour

    The Contestant 3

    By Myra Song

    3.5/5

    ()

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    About this ebook

    **VOLUME 3/FINALE**

    Mallory

    I'm one girl. A girl who likes to pretend that she's someone else. Who likes to hide from a world who won't let her.

    I'm one celebrity. I won a show by losing a bunch of weight. If I'd known the price of winning, I never would have played. Now my body, which has regained some of its former curves, is under a microscope. It feels like my identity is tied solely to the number on a scale.

    It was one wrong number. I pretended to be someone I'm not and now? Now I'm in deep with two guys. Deep in lust and deep in trouble.

    Jacob and Ares

    We're two guys. Two fabulously rich, self-made friends.

    We share a dark past. We share an apartment now, and a business we've put our backs and hearts into. We're going to share a future. When we see Mallory, with her vibrant red hair and delicious, curvy body, everything we have is at risk. Can we share a woman?

    Two personalities. Jacob is a storm, dark and churning. He's a powderkeg, ready to blow. Ares is relaxed, golden like the summer sun. Cross him? He'll freeze you out. Two minds at odds, yet forever linked.

    Three lives thrown together. Three mouths greedily seeking passion. Six hands that can't get enough. Twenty toes peeking out from covers. A hundred reasons why this is a bad idea.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherNow and Wren Publishing
    Release dateNov 1, 2016
    ISBN9781386695738
    The Contestant 3

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      Book preview

      The Contestant 3 - Myra Song

      Mallory

      The phone is heavy in my hand. Fuck. Upstairs my boys are sleeping, content that we’re safe now. In the clear to start moving on.

      Instead, my past has come to bite me on my cushy ass.

      Striker and Bubbles come when called and we head back up. As soon as I’m in the door the smell of bacon hits me, the sizzling sound filling the air. Is there anything so satisfying and reassuring as the smell of bacon?

      Ares is in the kitchen. I get the feeling that of the two of them, he’s definitely the cook. Jacob is the fine wining and dining type. It’s a lovely combination.

      Sleep well? I ask, sitting at their granite countertop and accepting the stoneware mug of coffee he hands me. It warms my palms.

      I did. Pancakes okay with the bacon?

      Drool. Does anyone ever say no to pancakes?

      He shrugs and then executes some quick, expert flips of the flapjacks. Jacob, when he thinks he’s getting too soft.

      Oh, right. My trainers were huge on cutting out carbs on ‘Lose it All.’ Huge. Since I love (and have always loved) all things starchy and carby, this had been a major blow. But determined to win, I’d found a way to say no to all of my favorite things.

      Now that the trip to Tokyo was coming up, it was time to start cutting in a major way. Actually, maybe Jacob’s not wrong. Do you have eggs?

      Ares’s eyes narrowed, briefly, before he nodded. Sure. Why don’t I make you an omelet?

      An egg white omelet sounds great.

      Now his confusion wasn’t subtle. "Egg white? The yolk is the best part! It has the taste, and the lecithin, and—"

      I shift on my stool. Truth be told, egg whites were disgusting. Runny, wobbly, they reminded me of mucous more than sustenance. Okay, keep the yolks. Then I sip my coffee so he doesn’t have time to see or hear my struggle with this decision.

      It’s only breakfast and I’m already being eaten by anxiety over this fucking trip. As I worry, Jacob comes into the kitchen, dressed for business but wearing a smile that’s all pleasure.

      Good morning, he says, before pouring himself a glass of juice and sitting at the bar with me. Pancakes! What a treat.

      For some of us, at least, Ares grumbles as he slides my omelet in front of me. My smile stops halfway, because he took my omelet order and ran with it. In front of me is a cheesy, stuffed, bacon and veggie omelette with salsa and half an avocado sliced on the side. My mouth is drooling, stomach cramping in eager anticipation, but my heart is racing and my brain trying to add up the calories and fat in the meal he’s made for me.

      Let’s be honest: I may as well have eaten the pancakes.

      Taking a bite, I note with guilty pleasure that he cooked it in butter, too. Damn you, Ares. A man after my heart, but I needed to be after my waistline.

      This is amazing, I murmur.

      Jacob leans in, smelling. That looks delicious. I’ll share my pancakes if you’ll share your omelette.

      Mind racing, I realize this is my out. I’m not proud of it, but I learned to disguise my eating habits well on ‘Lose it All.’ Once I realized how many of my so-called friends were out to get me, I got very good at making it look as if I was eating more than I was. The doctors on the show never commented and, if my trainers suspected anything, they sure as hell didn’t say so. After all, the more the numbers on the scale dropped, the closer we all were to winning.

      If Jacob shares my meal with me, he can tackle a large portion of this omelette and Ares won’t know the difference.

      Sold, I agree. Ares’ shoulders drop a bit, relaxing, as he sets a plate in front of Jacob, who promptly digs in.

      My senses are betraying me. The smell is unbelievable. I take a small bite of my omelette and chew it for a long time, trying to savor the flavors and trick my stomach into thinking I’m eating more than I plan to.

      It takes some work, but I eat one bite for every seven to ten of Jacob’s. In no time, there’s healthy dents in both of our plates.

      Jesus, no more, he exclaims, leaning back and rubbing his stomach. I’m going to have to hit the gym harder if we keep this up.

      Mind if I join you? I ask, dragging my fork around in my food. I wouldn’t mind a little work out.

      Sure, Jacob agrees. After work, let’s all go. We’ve got a busy few months ahead of us, especially if we’re going to beat Adrianne to the punch with the patent.

      Right. Work. There’s not going to be a good time to tell them, so I take another swig of coffee to bolster me. About work—

      You’ll be in the office for part of the week, with me. Now that I’ve figured out how much time Adrianne was just dicking around on the internet, I don’t see that I’ll need you more than part-time, which will let you work in the shop with Ares.

      Yeah, Ares agrees. The boys would never forgive me if I didn’t bring you into the shop for work.

      Blood rushes to my cheeks and my heart flutters. It’s so nice to be wanted at work, when I haven’t even been there that long. Like the whole staff has already accepted me as family.

      That sounds amazing, and I’ll be happy to do just that... when I get back.

      The kitchen, which had been filled with the sounds of Ares shuffling around as he cleaned up breakfast and Jacob’s rustling, falls silent. It is Jacob, of course, who speaks first. Get back from where?

      I got a call this morning. The show is doing something in Tokyo. My PR manager is already lining up tickets for me. I’ve got about a week before I fly, and I need to get all my travel plans worked out.

      You’re telling me right the fuck now that you need two weeks off? Jacob’s anger blazes in his dark brown eyes.

      Like I said, I push back, I didn’t learn about it until this morning. What would you have me do?

      Just don’t go!

      Ares chimes in. We watched your season, Mal. All of it. We know what those asshole said and did to you. You don’t owe them shit anymore.

      Actually, I sigh, I do. My contract covers things like this. If I don’t show, I have to pay back the money I won.

      Fine. We’ll pay it back. Jacob says it like it’s nothing. It’s the nicest, sweetest

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