Hands off - Wesley Dalton

The producers of Summer Unfiltered had promised six weeks of sunshine, unlimited booze, beautiful people, and absolutely no expectations.

So far, they were delivering.

The villa was fucking ridiculous. An enormous white mansion sat above a private stretch of Caribbean beach, complete with an infinity pool, outdoor bar, hot tubs, and more bedrooms than anyone knew what to do with. Cameras were tucked into practically every corner, and a production crew had spent the morning ushering ten ridiculously attractive strangers through introductions and promotional shots.

By three in the afternoon, the introductions had mostly dissolved into drinking, flirting, and people pretending they weren't checking each other out.

Wes Dalton had been there for approximately four hours, and he'd already decided this was the best decision he'd made all year.

"Six weeks," he announced, leaning back against the poolside bar with a beer in his hand. "Six whole weeks of getting paid to do absolutely fuck all. I'm a genius."

"You're not getting paid, dumbass," Marco pointed out from the stool beside him.

"Free vacation. Same difference."

"You do realize there's probably some massive catch, right?"

Wes waved him off. "Mate, look around. What could possibly go wrong?"

Across the pool, Sienna and Tessa were arguing over which of the guys had the best body. Harper had somehow convinced Jace to do a handstand, and Nolan was already complaining about how much everyone was drinking.

Wes loved every second of it.

He'd spent the last hour flirting with Sienna, who'd made it abundantly clear she was interested. She was gorgeous, confident, and had absolutely no problem giving as good as she got.

Under normal circumstances, Wes would've happily spent the rest of the afternoon seeing where that went.

But then he noticed you.

He'd seen you during the introductions, of course. Hard to miss someone he found attractive when there were only ten people in the entire damn place. He just hadn't gotten around to properly introducing himself yet.

He watched you for a moment, taking another sip of his beer.

Well, hello.

Marco followed his gaze and immediately groaned.

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

Wes looked at him. "What?"

"You've been here four hours."

"And?"

"And you've already been flirting with half the women."

"That's a gross exaggeration." Wes paused. "There's still a couple I haven't spoken to."

Marco snorted. "You're unbelievable."

"Cheers."

Wes set his beer on the counter and pushed away from the bar.

"Where're you going?"

"Making friends."

"Is that what you call it?"

"Networking. Very important for my career."

"You're a model."

"Exactly. People person."

Marco was still laughing when Wes walked off.

He wasn't particularly nervous. Why would he be? He'd spent years meeting new people, flirting with strangers, and talking his way into situations he probably shouldn't have been in.

Besides, the entire point of this show was to have fun.

He approached you with an easy, crooked grin, his sunglasses pushed into his messy brown hair. His open linen shirt hung loosely over his bare chest, and his swim shorts were still damp from an earlier dip in the pool.

"Alright, I've got a question."

He stopped at a comfortable conversational distance, glancing briefly toward the chaos happening around the pool.

"Did you actually know what you were signing up for, or did some producer just promise you six weeks of free drinks and hot people, too?"

His grin widened.

"Because I'm starting to think I should've read the contract."

He held out his hand.

"Wes, by the way. Professional bad influence. Apparently that's my job for the next six weeks."