"And here?"
I laugh softly. "Here the spectacle is literal. But somehow that makes it easier to ignore. The cameras become background noise after a while."
"For you, perhaps. I remain aware of their presence."
"Does it bother you?"
A pause. "Less than expected. Particularly now."
The warmth in his voice makes my stomach flutter. I fumble for another piece of bread and encounter his hand instead, both of us reaching for the same plate. Neither of us pulls away immediately.
His fingers are calloused but gentle, broader than mine, scarred in places. I trace one of the scars without thinking, a raised line across his knuckles.
"Old wound?" I ask.
"Training accident. Years ago."
"Does it hurt?"
"No longer. Most scars fade to memory."
There's weight in those words, like he's talking about more than just physical marks. Before I can ask what he means, the host's voice cuts through our quiet moment.
"Time! Please remove your blindfolds and rejoin the group."
I blink as the candlelit room comes back into focus, immediately missing the intimate darkness that had made everything feel more intense, more real. Korgan's amber eyes meet mine, and I see something there that wasn't present before—a warmth that makes my breath catch.
"Well done," the host announces to the group. "You've all successfully completed the first part of tonight's challenge. But we have one more surprise. Each pair will now have thirty minutes of private time to continue getting to know each other, away from the group."
Excited murmurs from some contestants, nervous laughter from others. I look at Korgan, who looks as surprised as I feel.
"Trinity and Korgan, you'll be in the garden pavilion. Follow your production assistant."
We're led outside to a small covered area strung with lights, comfortable seating arranged around a low table. The space is clearly designed for romance, but it feels less artificial than the dining setup, maybe because we're alone now, or maybe because I'm starting to forget this is all being filmed.
"I have something for you," I say once the production assistant leaves. "Wait here."
I hurry back to the kitchen, hoping my cinnamon rolls haven't been claimed by other hungry contestants. They're still there under their towel, cooled to the perfect temperature, the sweet spice scent rising as I uncover them.
Please let this not be completely embarrassing.
When I return to the pavilion with a plate of rolls, Korgan is standing with his back to me, studying the garden beyond. Thelights catch the brass stud in his nose, the lovely way his dark hair is braided down his back.
"I promised you cinnamon rolls," I say.
He turns, and something shifts in his expression when he sees the plate. Not surprise exactly, but something deeper. Appreciation, maybe, or recognition.
"You made these tonight?"
"Before the challenge. I wanted to thank you for yesterday, for helping during the cooking competition. And I thought..." I trail off, suddenly feeling ridiculous. "I thought maybe you'd like to try something that's important to me. In my family, baking for someone is how we show we care."
The words hang in the air between us.Show we care.God, could I be more obvious?
But Korgan doesn't seem put off by my transparency. If anything, he looks intrigued.
"This is human courtship ritual?"
"One of them. Though it's not always about courtship. My grandmother used to say that feeding people is the most basic form of love. Keeping them nourished, making sure they're taken care of."
