Walk of Shame

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Walk of Shame Page 12

by Gregory, O. L.


  I smiled. "Yes."

  "All right, please go ahead and make your selections."

  I took a breath and smiled. "Jared?"

  He smiled in return and moved to go stand in front of the side wall.

  "Phillip?"

  He was trying to stifle a chuckle as he made his way over. But once he took his new place, he was blatantly looking at his own shirt and the shirt of the other man standing in line with him.

  Jared looked down and you could see light dawning in his eyes before he started chuckling.

  The rest of the guys realized that the two in the lineup so far were wearing red shirts and were in various states of amusement. Troy made a quieting motion with his hands to get us all to settle down a bit so we could keep the formal part of the evening going.

  But then I looked up and made eye contact with Stephen. He smiled wide, and without me even saying a word, he moved himself over to the lineup.

  We all lost it. Even poor Mack, standing there in his white shirt.

  Troy made his 'quiet down' motion again and cleared his throat.

  We settled and I landed my eyes on Mike, who'd stepped down to the bottom riser in the midst of the laughter, in preparation for the move that his pink shirt guaranteed him.

  I almost lost it as my smiling eyes met his, but held on. "Mike?"

  He nodded and made the move.

  "Drake?"

  He grinned as he took the two steps down off the risers and went to stand in the lineup.

  We all sobered once we all had the red and pink shirts separated out. A layer of tension settled over everyone. I could just imagine the instrumental music passage they'd cue up in the editing booth at this moment in the episode, as the camera angles jumped from me to the guys and back again.

  "Liam?" I said.

  He broke into a smile and nodded before moving to the side.

  "Ardent?"

  He grinned and moved.

  "Trevor?"

  He smiled wide and moved.

  "Mitch?" I called. Of the four remaining, he was the one I'd spent the most amount of time with, and Goldie had seemed to respond well to him at the pool party. And once I realized that, I figured that I wasn't as indifferent about him as I'd once thought.

  He made his way over to the line.

  At this point, everyone knew that Mack was going to be leaving, and he was handling it well, I had to give him credit. It was really down to James and Tyler. Personally, I could just let them both go and I was going to be sleeping just fine. But, with Troy warning me that maybe one or both was just overwhelmed with everything this week, I'd ditched that inclination. So I did the only other thing I could think to do, in order to decide earlier today. I assigned James as heads and Tyler tails, and flipped a coin.

  "Tyler?"

  He nodded to himself and moved on over. And I had to wonder if he figured his being last to be called had anything to do with him being last on my list of preferences.

  Troy stepped forward. "Mack, James, I'm sorry the time has come for you to leave us. Please make your way to the door."

  Handshakes and pats on the back went through the group as the two made their way past the line of keepers. Both stopped to say goodbye to me and wish me luck. And I felt like a complete idiot because I didn't have anything to say to them other than 'thank you'. I was ill prepared to give them praise or show them regret. I didn't know them, not really. It was as simple as that. They'd been more gracious than I had, and that made me ill at ease.

  Production had us toast with champagne to celebrate surviving the first week. After they'd gotten their shot, everyone on the crew visibly relaxed and some started dispersing. Sure, they'd still be filming, but the main event was over.

  Amongst the guys, ties were being loosened, jackets were coming off, and top shirt buttons were being undone.

  "Hey, Troy?" I called out.

  "Yes, princess?"

  "Is my activity for the night ready?"

  "Yes, it is."

  I looked over to the guys. "The original expectation was that we'd sit and linger in our formal wear and chit-chat for a couple hours and unwind a bit from this week. But, I find it hard to relax in a skin-tight gown, panty hose, and a hundred bobby pins in my hair. And I think I've proven that I'm not staying in these heels any longer than contractually necessary."

  They laughed for me when I paused.

  "If suits are your idea of a relaxed time, then by all means stay in them and keep drinking the bubbly. But, the back of the hill, behind the house, has been covered and the water is running, creating our own waterslide. Beer and hard lemonade are sitting in coolers, and snacks are available," I told them with a grin. "So I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm changing and heading to the hill."

  We all went to go change. Production had set up floodlights over the area out back, and music was blaring from a few speakers. We spent the next two hours acting like a bunch of teenagers at a frat party, except we kept it legal. I took a turn going down with each guy at one point of another. I tried to make a mental note of exactly where their hands landed when they held me on the way down, who was comfortable with me, and who I was and was not comfortable having that bit of contact with.

  I spotted Phillip in the shadows, watching me interact with the group. He readily met my eye contact and waved me over to him. I did a quick glance around to see if anyone else was watching me in the moment, before going to him.

  He smiled, took my hand, and led me around to the side of the house.

  A cameraman turned off his camera's light and switched to infrared before quietly following behind us.

  I let Phillip corner me between two landscaping bushes, against the wall of the house. "If I stop cooking, will my next shirt turn white?" he asked.

  "No," I whispered. "The food grabs my attention, but doesn't keep it. I like your relaxed manner, your confidence, your patience, the way you stand back and consider the best option before acting, and the quiet way you eased into the good graces of everybody in the house."

  "Hmm," he braced a hand against the wall and leaned in. He brushed his cheek against mine and whispered, "And if I kiss you now, will that turn my shirt white next week?"

  I smiled against his ear and whispered, "It'll turn your shirt white if you don't kiss me now."

  He was smiling when he pulled away just enough to capture my lips with his as my arms came up to let my fingers thread through the hair at the nape of his neck.

  Phillip and I rejoined the group a few minutes later. I slipped and slid down the hill a few more times, as though I'd never been drawn away. But then I spotted Jared by the coolers, looking all hot and sexy, and I made my way over.

  Jared had been about to close the lid, but held it open for me when he saw me coming.

  I reached down, grabbed a bottle of hard lemonade, waited for him to let the lid drop, and took five steps into the shadows. I turned back to find him watching me, gave him a head-nod toward the house, turned away, and started walking.

  My feet had hit the steps in the stairwell before I heard another set of footsteps in quick pursuit. I led the way all the up to the fourth floor, and down the hall to find the last set of stairs. Up one more flight we went, opened a door, and entered onto the rooftop balcony. I went over to stand at the railing that overlooked the group on the hill below. I unscrewed the cap on my drink, laid it in the railing, and took a swallow.

  The cameraman slid around Jared to pick his prime position on the darkened balcony.

  Jared, however, remained glued to his position beside the door for a moment. Eventually he popped the tab on his beer can open as he drifted over to stand beside me at the railing. "What are we doing up here?" he asked.

  I shrugged and turned to look at him. "I heard this was up here and I wanted to check it out."

  He turned his back to the railing, and propped his elbows on it as he leaned back. "If you look out from the other side, you can see the ocean and a beach down past the trees a bit."<
br />
  I walked over to that side and looked out. "Pretty."

  He followed me over and the cameraman quietly switched positions.

  "Why did you bring me up here?" he asked.

  "Because I didn't have enough one-on-ones this week to suit me. So I'm stealing one."

  He moved closer to me. "And did you pick me because I was the first one you saw an opportunity to sneak off with?"

  "You weren't the first one in that position. You must have missed the one who pulled me away for a few stolen moments."

  "Emma, you know what I'm asking. Am I up here because you're not fully sure of me and are trying to figure me out, or is it because you are so sure of me that you wanted me up here with you?"

  I sidled closer to him and began to whisper. "Right now, at this moment, in this stage of the game, you are my frontrunner. And I pulled you up here to find out if spending some alone time with you would change that, or solidify it."

  He'd started smiling at the word 'frontrunner'. He pulled me in for a kiss. He walked me backwards, crowding me into the corner of the balcony as he continued to kiss me.

  We heard the music cut off and the group below got louder. I pulled out of Jared's arms and looked over the railing. "Oh, crap. They're all coming in."

  He chuckled. "Afraid we'll get busted?"

  "I'm all for breaking the rules, but I don't want them all to know when I'm doing it."

  "Why?"

  "Because, if they find out I stole time with you, then they'll all be expecting me to steal time with them. And then when I don't, they'll start analyzing what it means and why didn't they get time while someone else did."

  "They'll put it together that we both disappeared."

  "But if they didn't see us leave together, and don't see us return together, there's an element of them still wondering if we actually were together. Maybe they'll kick the idea around that I just got too tired and stumbled down the path, back to my house."

  "So, we stay up here until they are all settled in for the night. Should take maybe an hour."

  I gave him a mischievous grin. "Okay." I turned to him and gestured to the reclining chairs, "You up for drinking our drinks and watching some stars?"

  "Sure." He took my hand and led me over to one. He sat down, scooted back in it, and pulled me down to sit in front of him, leaning us both back.

  We cuddled and talked. We spoke about our favorite places we'd visited with our jobs, places we still wanted to go see, our families and such. We'd had a good time, and as the clock ticked on by, I'd learned that not only did his accent help to make his voice sound like warm melted butter, but hearing it rumble through his chest as I cuddled against him was even better.

  It was three in the morning before we decided the guys had enough time to get all settled and sleepy. I'd expected Jared to walk me through the dark house and to the door, but I hadn't expected him to follow me outside.

  "A real man always sees his date to her door," he whispered.

  "I thought it was a proper gentleman who did that," I whispered back.

  "Being a proper gentleman from time to time gets a real man invited on a second date," he said as he took my hand to lead me down the path and through the brush to my house.

  He leaned down and kissed me goodnight before leaving me at my doorway.

  Chapter Nine

  Week Two - 10 Men Left

  Monday

  I'd been told that there was nothing pressing on this morning's docket for me. Production was going to spend it torturing the guys. So, I'd slept in, ate some fruit salad they'd put in my fridge, and completed my workout in the upstairs gym so I wouldn't run into any of the guys just yet.

  By noon, production was calling me to get me to come down to one of their trailers. It was primping day. They waxed any hair re-growth they didn't care for, gave my hair a hot oil treatment, discussed the state of my fingernails, had me try on outfits for the coming week, dressed me up and sent me to another trailer for some photos to be taken, and then released me to Troy.

  He and I sat in a room in yet another trailer, designed for its intimate atmosphere and acoustics. He showed me some clips from one of the dates and then asked me interview questions, expecting me to give answers. Long ones. I couldn't just say yes or no, I had to explain myself, and my thinking, at each stage of each of the dates.

  "I hope this gets easier," I said after we'd finished with the last of the formal questions, but were still sitting in the interview trailer.

  "Which part?" Troy asked.

  "This part, right here. So much has happened, and there were so many little moments, it all starts to blend together. This last week was busy and flew by fast, but the memories seem like a month ago. It's like you're asking me what I had for lunch on Tuesday, three weeks ago."

  He chuckled. "That's why we show you the video clips, hoping to get the memories flowing. But, yeah, once the guys dwindle down, you'll spend more time with each individual one and your impressions of them will more readily stick to the forefront of your mind."

  "Who were the guys talking about on the tennis court? Who's having issues?"

  Troy just smiled at me.

  "If whoever it is can't handle being here..."

  "Production is watching him. We're trying to figure out what the deal is. Maybe it's just the stress. Maybe he's just naturally loud in his private life, and he's struggling to keep the volume down twenty-four/seven. Maybe whatever this situation is triggering is a sign of an issue he needs help with. But maybe what's beginning to show is violence simmering under his layer of control. Whatever it may be, we're trying to see if it's something to be concerned about or not."

  "Why won't you tell me who it is?"

  "Because that would be us interfering with your choice, and we promised to help facilitate, not interfere."

  "But if he's getting violent, or yelling at people without good reason-"

  Troy raised a hand, "If he turns violent or abusive in any way, we will pull him from the house and show you the footage of his outbursts. But we don't want to do that without just cause for it. We'll see how it progresses as the population in the house begins to dwindle. But, rest assured, we do not intend to let you be in harm's way. Even if he were to sneak over to you and dodge cameras on the property, one scream and a dozen people would come running. You know that."

  "Yeah, okay."

  "In the meantime, the evening is scheduled free for you and the guys to catch up on whatever individual business matters you all may have to deal with, phone calls and emails and such."

  "All right."

  He handed me a folder. "Everything is set for the group date tomorrow. If you'll just look through this and pick your one-on-one destinations, and let us know who is going on which date, I'd appreciate it."

  "I'll send out an email tonight."

  "Excellent."

  I left the trailer and made my way back to the cottage. I tried to put matters of the guys out of my head as I walked. After all the talking and reminiscing about the past week, I had to wonder how this was all going to end. There were so many fears in my doing this. Sending home the right guy because you were so overwhelmed by the mass of men that you couldn't see your should-be husband standing in front of you, that was the main one. Being handed sixteen men, all matched up just for you and not finding a true keeper among them, that had been my other major fear. But the one I hadn't considered, thinking that I'd found the one, getting engaged, moving in and merging lives together, and only then realizing the man harbored a dark side and I'd made the biggest mistake of my life, that was the one I should actually be afraid of. And it didn't have to be the one people were talking about. Who knows how all these guys acted in the privacy of their rigs, parked out in the middle of nowhere, with no cameras or other people to be conscientious of?

  I took a deep breath and pushed the pessimistic thoughts aside. I was going to walk into my cottage, go into my office, and submerge myself into the familiar world of my writing lif
e. Maybe then, my head could clear and I'd be able to re-center my perspective.

  Tuesday

  Morning came, I ran, I showered, the MA tortured my face and hair, and off I went in search of breakfast with my boyfriends.

  And here's what I loved, they'd left a seat at the kitchen island empty. A place was already set and juice had been poured, and they'd saved the spot for me. If this is what I could expect when they knew I'd be coming in the morning, I'd have to make plans to show up here more often. My plate was whisked away as I sat, and it returned with yummy food on it.

  "What tortuous activities do you have planned for us today?" Trevor asked.

  "No torture. We've rented out a yacht from noon until sunset. We'll be cruising the harbor, looking for sea life, swimming, some jet skiing, and whatever other trouble we can find before they feed us dinner at sunset. Relax, play, be inside the cabin, or outside on one of two decks, whatever you want."

  "Who all gets to go on this one?" Tyler asked.

  "You, Trevor, Mitch, Liam, Mike, Stephen, Phillip, and Jared."

  "Eight? Can you handle us all?" Liam asked.

  "That's why they rented an entire yacht. There's enough room and activities that we can spread out. And we'll be gone for enough time that I could, in theory, spend an hour with each of you out there."

  "Mini-date marathon?" Mike teased.

  I took a look around the room, trying to gauge expressions. "Hey, I'm flexible. If you guys want one big group date, so be it. If you guys want to do back-to-back, hour-long, mini-dates, so be it, but I don't want to hear any arguments over who gets me during the dinner hour. If you want to split it up, some large group, some shorter individual times, fine. You guys plan it. And plan what each of you will do with me, once you have me."

  I finished my juice and stood up. "We don't have to leave until eleven. In the meantime, I have a couple personal things to see to. I'll be back."

  Ardent winked at me on my way to the door. It hadn't been lost on him that he'd scored a one-on-one date this week. I glanced back at Drake and realized he was probably doing the math, too. I gestured at them both to follow me.

 

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