13
"I want my old room back." I announce to T.J., who seems completely surprised to see me.
"I figured you'd be getting some rest after a raucous night of headboard banging," the producer says crassly before sliding the last bite-and-a-half of his raspberry danish into his mouth. Jamie snorts with laughter at his crude comment, solidifying my suspicion that she has a crush on him.
I had gotten up early and snuck around to avoid waking Cam. He had been sprawled across the bed and snoring loudly. He was at least wearing his black boxer briefs, which was an immense relief.
After quietly donning a hot pink bikini and a brightly-colored cover-up and exiting the room, I made a beeline for the main dining hall–– assuming I would find someone from the show eating breakfast. Tracking down T.J.
