‘Aww, you babe,’ he says as he comes to take his hug.
‘Well, you’re pretty much our daddy,’ I tell him, not thinking about the words I’m using.
‘Daddy?’ he jokes. ‘I’ll take it.’
Love finding new and awkward ways to embarrass myself. That better not get clipped and go viral.
Then it’s Lockie’s turn.
He takes a card, flips it over, and reads aloud: ‘Kiss the neck of the girl you could see yourself settling down with.’
‘Oof, that’s a heavy one,’ Honey blurts.
My mouth goes dry.
Honey immediately tosses her hair and angles her body toward him, as if to say she’s ready. Well, she did already kiss him, so she looks like she reckons he’s going to return the favour.
Lockie surveys the group calmly. It feels like it takes him ages to decide.
Then he walks straight to me and every part of me freezes.
He stops in front of where I’m sitting by the fire. He doesn’t say a word. Just reaches down, takes my hand, and gently pulls me to my feet, like this is a rehearsal and I forgot my cue to stand.
I can feel every pair of eyes locked on us. The cameras too. I can imagine Simon bouncing in and out of his seat in the control room, jumping for joy, thinking he’s going to get some action.
Lockie steps closer. So close I can smell sun cream on his skin and, God, he smells good. Kind of like he’s wearing aftershave, but we don’t have anything like that here. It’s just him.
His fingers brush my hair aside, clearing a way to my neck, slowly and gently enough to make my pulse throb in every part of my body. Then his lips touch my neck.
Not a quick peck. Not a jokey tap-and-go. It’s slow. Warm. Deliberate. It goes on…
He lingers, breath teasing my skin, lips grazing in a way that makes my knees want to give way. For a second or two – maybe even longer – I forget the cameras watching us. I forget why we’re here. I forget my name!
I… melt. Fully. Like ice cream in the sun. My hands wrap around his arms, like I’m holding him in place.
And then he stops.
I snap back too. The world around us comes back into view – the fire’s crackle, the camera’s whir, oh, and everyone watching.
I step back, slowly, like I’m stepping away from danger, getting myself to safety. I pull my long hair forwards again, covering the scene of the crime, trying to act like it never happened.
Oh. Acting – that’s it. Lockie is just putting on a show. He has to be, right? Oh, God, and I enjoyed it. I melted into his arms, forgot where I was, loved every second of it. I’ll just have to say I was acting too. No one could torture the truth out of me. Because the truth is… I was way, way into it.
I don’t think anyone knows what to say now.
The anonymous voice of the island booms out, smug as ever: ‘Islanders, it’s time to couple off. As the winner of today’s race, Ozzy will choose first.’
My heart does this weird hiccup thing. Oh, God. I know this is fake, I know we’re only meant to be here for a short stint, but still, standing in front of people and waiting to see if someone picks you? I’m getting PE flashbacks.
Ozzy stands, brushing sand from his shorts, taking the moment so seriously. He looks around the circle with a blank expression, giving nothing away.
‘Well,’ he says, puffing air from his cheeks, ‘I just think, like, you’ve gotta go with your gut, yeah? And connection is important. Real connection – and I think I’ve made one.’ He glances at me for a second, then away. ‘So… the girl I’m choosing is someone I’ve already bonded with, someone who gives as good as she gets, someone I trust.’
My ribcage tightens. Don’t be ridiculous, I tell myself. He’ll pick Honey – who wouldn’t pick Honey? Or Camilla. Christ, even Tony, literally anyone who isn’t a crew member undercover.
‘I pick… Cleo.’
For a second, I don’t move. I don’t breathe. I genuinely think I’ve misheard him.
