Chapter 15: Silas

Silas was having a heart attack.He was having a heart attack and Killian was rubbing sunscreen on Eloise's back, oblivious. Like he wasn't sitting there watching and meeting an early grave.

He'd watched the scene unfold with clarified horror. He knew the second Maia and Killian had stepped out of the manor that they weren't as cozy as they'd been the night before. Knew especially when he saw them part from one another without the usual reluctance.

And then, when he'd glanced over at the girls as they'd had their morning chat, he saw Eloise's back straighten, her attention zeroing in as Maia spoke. It didn't take a genius to know what was going on: Maia and Killian were not as strong as they'd all thought and Eloise was preparing to strike.

But knowledge of a disaster and actually watching it unfold were two different things.

Silas had stood with his arms crossed over his chest as Eloise stepped up to Killian and gestured towards one of the sunbeds. She'd gone slow. Sultry, almost. And it wasn't that Silas didn't think she could pull sultry off—it was just that it didn't feel natural to who she was. Silas hated that, that she was putting on a show for the other man.

But isn't that exactly what he'd told her to do?

He'd been so stupid, agreeing to this arrangement. He'd thought having her in his bed might be worth it, in the end. But then she'd waltzed out of that bathroom in that tiny little nightie and he'd almost imploded. The way it'd stretched tight across her chest—across her everything. The total expanse of skin it'd put on display. The sheer suggestion of it. Eye-fucking her in that thing didn't seem too in-line with the whole making-it-up-to-her plan.

Not that his fucking shirt had been much better. Maybe, subconsciously, he'd given her one of the tighter ones, but he hadn't expected her to fill it out like that. Which was fucking asinine because he looked at her all day in less. Yet his mouth had still gone dry. And wasn't it supposed to be the opposite? Wasn't the sight of someone like that supposed to make drool pool and drip?

Perhaps his body was acknowledging what his brain still had trouble with: Eloise wasn't his to drool over. And doing so in her presence didn't seem conducive to any of what they were attempting.

Not feeling any better about his internal conclusions, Silas narrowed his eyes on Eloise and Killian. He'd finished up with the sun cream and hesitated before allowing her to turn over. Was he debating if he should give her ass a little tap? It was right there, after all.

Silas would have done that.

Silas did not like the thought of Killian doing something he would have done.

Still, it was worse, somehow, when she did turn over. Because then she was flashing that megawatt smile at the guy. Leaning back on her elbows and presenting her chest. If Silas were in the mood to hand it to her, he would. She was doing fantastically, drawing Killian's attention like she was.

Killian smiled back before situating himself beside her. Maybe it was an honest attempt to speak with her. Maybe it was just the positioning that felt the most natural. But, to Silas, it looked as though he were preparing to dive in for some kind of snuggle. Like the two of them were about to be wrapped in that bed together.

Did she not care?

She'd been wrapped around Silas this morning—did that mean nothing? The sensation of her limbs on top of his had been fucking intoxicating but it was clear she felt nothing close to the same, considering how she still beamed at the Ken doll.

God, he was being so stupid.

Hadn't this exact brand of desperation been what he'd warned Eloise against, claiming it was a turn-off. Well, fuck him for being right. Silas wanted her and she wanted Killian and Killian wanted Maia and Maia wanted fucking no one.

Want, clearly, wasn't getting anybody anywhere in this manor.

So what the hell was Silas supposed to do? Get to know the other girls? They were attractive, sure, but how could he be expected to give them any sort of attention with Eloise sitting right there? What if she saw him failing to flirt with one of the other girls and thought he wasn't interested?

Not that he was doing a great deal to show his interest anyway. It was like he couldn't stop himself from snapping at her. She thought he was just an asshole but, fuck, he was just so angry. Angry that she didn't want him and angry that he had no right to be angry because she wasn't his. It would be easier if he could tell himself he only acted like that to push her away. It was flawed, yes, but it was easy. In truth, Silas had no good explanation.

At least nothing he could explain to her.

So there he stood, witness to that apocalyptic conversation, with absolutely nothing to do about it.

…or he could go over there.

Before Silas could command his feet to stop moving, he was next to the sunbed, his smirk of armor well in place. "Can you get me next, Killian?"

Killian blinked up at Silas through the glare of the sun. "Huh?"

"Sunscreen," he clarified. "Will you get me next? I bet my ass is nicer to look at than Eloise's."

He wasn't sure why he added on that last part. In his mind, it had been a joke. Something that so obviously wasn't true that his audience couldn't help themselves but to laugh. Upon delivery, though? It just felt cruel.

Like he was criticizing her body.

Fuck, he couldn't come up with a criticism for her body if he tried.

Eloise bristled. Pulled her shoulders in tighter. "I guess I can leave you two to it, then."

Silas felt helpless as she clambered off the sunbed. He wished she were privy to his view as she went. She'd have no doubt about the merits of her ass if she were.

Killian cleared his throat and patted the cushion next to him. "Uh, settle in, I guess. Let's put this to the test."

But Silas couldn't even look at the other man, the way his gaze was so intent on Eloise. "I was…I didn't mean for that to happen," he said stupidly. "I was just kidding."

"SPF is no joke."

Did Killian not understand the tragedy that had unfolded right in front of his face? Silas gave a pathetic excuse before loping after Eloise. He tried to plan his apology before he got there—his previous encounters with her only proof that he couldn't be trusted to speak off-the-cuff—but words failed him.

He didn't know what to say to make it better, other than having not said any of it in the first place. He just knew he was sorry. And guilty. And wanted nothing more than to be the thing that made her feel good rather than the reason she kept storming off.

Before he could get a full breath, they were up the stairs, preparing to step out onto the terrace overlooking the backyard. He didn't think she'd intentionally led them there, considering it left a bit to be desired in terms of privacy. But Silas felt sure that she only really meant to steer clear of the sunroom that had gotten them into this disadvantageous relationship in the first place.

Thudding footsteps pounded down the hall towards them. On instinct, Silas drew Eloise to his side. It wasn't like they needed to hide—they'd been told that practically the whole manor was theirs to use. But Silas's instincts were currently on the fritz.

Carter approached their spot like he was just returning from his wit's end and Eloise shrunk into Silas. He secured a hand at her waist, practically puffing out his chest. She may be pissed at him, but she trusted him to keep her safe. From angry brits, at least.

The showrunner started when he noticed them, his eyes narrowing. "You two get in another row?" Before they could respond, Carter was repositioning them, shoving them into the light streaming through the window, angling them—as a unit—towards the best camera. "If you have to do it, do it on camera," he grumbled.

Eloise managed to squeak out an apology and Silas added, "Guess we can't help it."

Clearly, that had been the wrong thing to say. Eloise wrenched herself from him, scrunching up her nose to emphasize the glare she was shooting.

Carter sighed. "One week," he muttered, stomping away with exactly as much fury as he'd had before. "I need one bloody week for this stupid challenge. Thought they'd want to kiss each other, dammit."

It was almost too much for Silas to take in. He knew he needed to address his latest fuck-up with Eloise but Carter's angry musings caught on his ears. If they got to the challenge, he'd be able to kiss her?

He might get his lips on Eloise?

But the guys had just had their choice—it wasn't up to him if they stayed together through the next ceremony. So how did he convince her she needed to stay with him?

Taping his mouth shut might be a good start but he should really take care this upcoming week to make sure his lips stayed ripe for her.

God, what a fucking loser he was. Worried about the state of his lips on the off chance she might get near them.

"Can't help it, huh?" Eloise seethed across from him. "Look, I know you find me repulsive?—"

"Repulsive?" Surely, he hadn't heard that correctly.

"—but I don't know how many more insults I can take, Silas," she continued as if he hadn't spoken. "You said you'd help me but that didn't feel very helpful back there. If you're going to say mean things, at least keep them contained to the suite."

"Repulsive?" he said again. "You think I find you repulsive?"

Lord help him, she actually stomped her foot. "Well, why else would you make fun of my ass? Or, you know, practically pop a blood vessel when I come out in my nightgown. I should have known the whole stunning thing was just a joke. Well, I appreciate you stroking my ego but I'm not sure if you're aware that you don't have to cut it down every time you build it up."

His hands shot out without his brain really telling them to and wrapped around her shoulders. "Look me in the eye, Eloise," he demanded. "Look me in the eye and tell me if you really think there's a person on this fucking earth that finds you repulsive."

"You do," she said indignantly.

"No, I certainly do not." She huffed at his words and he smelled the hazelnut of the coffee he'd made her on her breath. Would she taste like it, too? Before he could find out, Silas released her and stepped back. "I'm sorry about what I said in front of Killian. I didn't mean for it to come out like that. Thought it'd be obvious I was joking around because anyone with eyes could see you've got the best ass. I regret it, okay? And I regret ever making you feel like you were anything short of perfect."

Her head had fallen while she looked at her feet but she blinked up at him through her lashes at the last part. "Did you just call me short?"

"You are short."

Eloise crossed her arms. "Yeah, but you don't have to bring it up."

"I like that you're short."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I can see down your shirt."

"Silas!" she gasped, bringing her hands up to cover her tits, as if it did anything to negate the cleavage she still had on display.

"What?" he asked innocently. "Would someone who found you repulsive keep trying to sneak glances at your tits?"

"Maybe," she admitted. "If they were a real rascal type."

"Is that your adorable way of calling me a rascal?"

She scrunched her nose up again, not in anger this time but in contemplation. "Is there another word that fits better?"

Silas stepped closer—he really couldn't help it. "You tell me."

Eloise didn't tell him but she did perk up, his transgressions once again easily forgiven. He didn't deserve that. If it were anyone else receiving that unearned grace, he'd have to have a very stern talking to with both the offender and with Eloise for doling it out so easily. In the same breath, though, he kind of adored that about her. That she was just so…positive all the time. Optimistic.

Hopeful.

She was the exact ray of sunshine his storm cloud needed.

Sappy fuck.

"You did hurt my feelings," she told him, stern as she could, before grinning. "But I appreciate that that wasn't your intention. The good news is that I think this is all still salvageable, don't you? I mean, we were flirting, Silas! Yeah, I had to go up to him. But he told me he thought I looked pretty. That's something, isn't it?"

Could she maybe try to shine in the opposite direction of Killian, though?

"Yeah, maneater," Silas agreed. "That's something."

"Maybe I'll pretend to be really sad about what you said and then he can tell me he likes my ass. It's like the perfect opening, isn't it?"

Silas choked. "Eloise…"

She nodded easily when she took in his face. "But that wouldn't be very kind to you, I guess. Okay. I'll pivot."

She paced around him, wafting her hair under his nose as she went. Silas didn't have the most sensitive nose of all time—he couldn't pick out notes like sandalwood or vetiver or any shit like that and he only knew about the hazelnut because he'd been the one to put it in her coffee. All he knew was the Eloise smelled good. Sweet. Not like sunscreen, somehow.

Finally, she gestured to where Carter had disappeared down the hall. "Did he say something about a kissing challenge? Maybe I can use that challenge to get him to kiss me?"

How could something that sounded so good to him just moments ago turn sour so quickly? Well, maybe Silas could salvage this, too.

"We only get to complete those challenges if we stay in the same couples," he reminded her. "So we'd have to stay together."

"And they'd have to stay together," she finished, frowning. "Well, I guess that's for the best."

Maybe Silas had a little bit of that hope in him, too, because he asked, "Staying together?"

"That I won't get to kiss him," she corrected. Well, he certainly agreed but Eloise kept going. "I don't really know how."

"To kiss?"

"Yeah."

He couldn't believe he was about to encourage this Killian-kissing nonsense but Silas wouldn't give her any more reasons to be insecure. "There's not really one way to do it. You put your lips together and, voila, you're kissing."

Eloise tilted her head back to look at him and he followed the bob of her throat as she swallowed. He would not look at her lips. Not when they were talking about this.

"I've never done it," she admitted.

"You've never been kissed?"

She shook her head.

And there was Silas's impulsivity rearing again. His mouth not really following his brain. Not that his brain was operating on any sort of decent sphere. But, suddenly, all he knew was that he could not let this girl go unkissed.

No wonder her confidence was so easily toppled. Clearly, she was wanting that sort of attention. And to have made it so many years without it was almost a crime.

Still, as noble as he could pretend he was, there was another reason, too, that he stepped forward. It wasn't just that he wanted her to be kissed. He wanted her to be kissed by him. He wanted to be the first to ever feel those lips.

The first to taste her, taste her tongue.

And he wanted to do it so right that she'd never want one from anyone else, ever.

Whatever decency he had left allowed him to stop, for a singular moment, when his hand gripped her jaw. Kept her tilted and primed. He bent, his intentions all but flashing in his eyes and he waited for her to tell him to stop.

She didn't.

So Silas delivered. He kissed her. His mouth came down on hers and he didn't have it in him to be soft, even if that was what she probably deserved for her first. Not when this might be his only chance.

For her part, there was the surprise that came with being kissed for the first time. The hesitancy of deciding if you liked what was happening or not. Silas could have rejoiced when Eloise decided she did. When she pressed her lips right back into his.

He took a chance in prodding her with his tongue but Eloise opened for him immediately. He wouldn't trade that kind of trust for anything, the way she followed his lead so blindly. Like she knew, instinctively, that he was going to make her feel good.

He didn't go full force with his tongue, though. Not yet. First, he just explored. Sucking on her bottom lip. Nipping it. And when the angle was too much for his back, he didn't stop himself from releasing her jaw and cupping the tops of her thighs with his fingers. Didn't stop himself from hoisting her up.

He certainly didn't stop her when she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Here—here was where he'd finally slip his tongue into her mouth. He walked her to the wall so they'd have some support because surely his knees would give out at the first taste. And they did, nearly. But Eloise was such a natural, toying with his mouth with the same insistence as he played with hers. She hooked an arm around his neck to keep herself steady. Let her other hand run up and down his chest.

Dug in with her nails, just the slightest bit.

Silas's cock was so hard and she was pressed into him right above it. Any moment, she'd feel it, and then what?

He knew the moment she did because she stilled. Released the cutest little squeak into his mouth. And Silas may have been a rascal, as she so kindly called him, but he could tell she wasn't ready to move so forward so quickly.

With great pain, he released her. Kept her pressed into him as she slid down, at least until she was safely back on her feet. Her hand—the same hand that had been scratching at his chest—fell against her mouth. She panted and the heaving motion didn't calm his erection in the slightest.

Silas cleared his throat. "Now you have."