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familiar?
    â€œWhat was that guy’s name?” she asked, no longer able to keep the questions contained to her head. If anyone could tell her who that guy was, it was Chip since he’d hand selected every contestant.
    â€œWhich one?”
    â€œThe one with the dark hair and the blue shirt at the last camp. I don’t think he told me his name or if he did, I didn’t hear him.”
    â€œThat’s Alex.”
    The name sent off a warning bell in her memory that sounded like an air raid siren, and yet she couldn’t put her finger on why. But her pulse responded to the name anyway, spiking up at least a dozen beats faster. Maybe if she had his last name it would bring the memory forward.
    She cleared her throat. “Alex who?”
    â€œAlex Brighton.”
    Zoe’s head spun as memories rushed to the surface. No way. This couldn’t be happening. She knew he’d looked familiar, but not
that
familiar.
    They’d gone to school together from kindergarten until her accident just after she turned fourteen. He hadn’t changed much over the years — a lot more muscles, hopefully a bit more maturity — but the same intense eyes, sneer instead of a smile, and ability to make her uncomfortable.
    Had he recognized her?
    And if he had, would he share her secret with the world?

Chapter Four
    Chip stood outside Zoe’s tent for the second time wishing he could comfort her in some way and feeling completely inadequate. He didn’t even know what was wrong with her. One minute she’d been fine and chatty and the next she’d been closed off, bordering on what appeared to be an anxiety attack.
    Twice.
    The first was when the sound girl had hugged her after lunch. The second when they walked back to camp and she’d asked about Alex.
    As soon as he’d said the name, it was as if a switch went off inside Zoe and she closed herself off to everything and everyone. It was strange. And disconcerting. Why did hearing the name of one of his contestants have that effect on her?
    He forced himself away from her tent, not wanting anyone to see him and think he was creeping outside her tent. The last thing he needed was for some rumor to start and Zoe to catch wind of it.
    Once he’d zipped himself into his own tent, he grabbed a beer from his private stash and sat on his cot, head in one hand, beer in the other. It was only day one. He shouldn’t have put so much pressure on himself to connect with Zoe or have some kind of breakthrough with her on the very first day. Building trust — building a relationship — took time and effort. But she was worth it.
    Zoe Oliver was worth any trouble she might cause him — any frustration she might make him endure — even if she didn’t know she was doing it. Like right now. Knowing she was only a few feet away in her tent, probably in her pajamas already, if she even wore pajamas, was enough to make his groin tingle with anticipation.
    It wasn’t just lust he felt for her, though there was a hardy dose of lust in his body right this second, but also a deeply rooted desire to make her happy, to see her smile … to simply be near her.
    All this time, over the course of all his shows with her, he’d longed to be able to talk to her as a peer instead of an employer. Now he finally could, and it didn’t seem to be going so well when every time he spoke to her, she closed herself off. Well, sometimes she relaxed around him. He loved those moments.
    Now he had to figure out how to make them last longer, how to have more of them, and how to keep her from closing off to him again.
    Easier said than done.
    â€¢ • •
    Zoe woke from a restless sleep. But her dreams, no,
nightmares
, hadn’t even been the stuff of fiction. Nope. What she wouldn’t give to have zombie nightmares like everyone else.
    It had been a night of reliving her worst days. Days she’d thought were long behind