The instructors roll in with doom, and a perky woman in leggings hands out—God help me—tight yoga pants for all thecontestants. “Change up, boys!” another one chirps. “Let’s get loose and limber!”
I duck into a changing tent, grumbling as I shimmy into the damn things. They hug every inch, leaving nothing to the imagination. I step out and unfortunately catch my reflection in a mirror propped against a tree. And just as I suspected, it isn’t pretty. But it is what it is: six-four of muscle crammed into black spandex, with a wild beard, the spitting image of a lumberjack who wandered into a gym ad.
The guys are already on their mats, laughing and striking poses. Old Tyler’s fresh off his date with Lyssa, and has the glow of someone who just hit the jackpot. Ethan does a mock warrior stance, nearly toppling over. Blake adjusts his waistband with a wink at the camera, and me? I cross my arms, feeling exposed, with the fabric pulling tight across my thighs and chest.
Then Lyssa arrives, and my discomfort evaporates. She’s in a fitted tank top that clings to her curves, emerald green like her eyes, paired with high-waisted leggings that accentuate her hips and thighs. Blonde waves tied back in a ponytail. No makeup, just that natural glow, cheeks pink from the cold. She’s effortlessly sexy, as usual. Unfortunately, every other man on the planet will know how perfect she is after this show airs.
“Morning, gentlemen,” she says in an extra cheerful tone that sends my Spidey senses reeling.
“What have you and the producers cooked up for us?”
She giggles, locking onto my stare longer than she needs to. “Ready to get flexible?”
The group erupts in cheers, and I still don’t take my eyes off her. “For you? Always.”
Elena claps. “Time to pair up, gentlemen. We’ll rotate Lyssa through. The first pose is Warrior Two, a test of strength and focus.
We scatter to our mats and I’m joined by Ethan, which considering the circumstances isn’t necessarily a bad thing. He’s a natural and guides me through the basics without being an asshole.
“Arms out, Creed. Like you’re drawing a bow.” I mimic, as my muscles protest when I lunge forward, with my front knee bent at ninety degrees, back leg straight and arms extended parallel to the ground. My quads burn, balance wobbling on the soft mat, but I hold the pose.
Jake slips, landing on his ass with a thud. Lyssa stops by Blake first and adjusts his hips with a gentle touch that makes him beam. Then she’s on to Jake, laughing as she helps him widen his stance. When she reaches us, she grins at Ethan, then turns to me.
“Creed, bend that front knee more. Like this.” She demonstrates by getting dangerously close to me. Fuck, she smells so good. She places a hand on my thigh, pressing lightly to help, and damn if it doesn’t send a jolt straight through me. I adjust, grunting. “This isn’t exactly chopping wood.”
She laughs. “No. But watching you try is fun, though.” She captures my stare, and for a second, the world fades, and it’s just us. I lean in, whispering, “Missed you yesterday. Whatever Tyler did, I can do better.”
Her breath hitches as she lifts her chin and looks me square in the eye. “Why are you really here, Creed? We were together for years and never made a full commitment. I don’t understand. Are you for real about this, or are you simply trying to make me feel uncomfortable?”
“Lyssa. I’m sorry the producers pulled the rug out from under you, but I’m serious as hell. Pretend we’ve never met. Give me the same chance as anyone else. I’ll prove to you how much I love you.”
She drops her gaze and then blinks up at me with misty eyes. “Truly?”
Now, for the first time since arriving, I see how upset she really is. She has her heart set on this reality show. “Yes. I felt I needed to be here before you reached any decision about spending the rest of your life with someone else. But if you prefer I leave, I’ll understand. I’ll pack up and take off immediately. I don’t give a shit about pins or any roses, the only thing I care about is you. Do you want me to go?”
“Lyssa!” Jake waves. “I need your expertise over here!” Elena signals for Lyssa to go on to the next bachelor, and I’m treated to a regretful smile and an arm squeeze before she joins Jake. She didn’t ask me to leave, so I’m staying, no matter how painful this shit show is.
We move onto Sun Salutations next. My planks are solid from years of core work on the lines, but the forward folds are rough. My hamstrings are as tight as cables about to snap.
Marcus is struggling. Every time he tries to maintain a position, a cough rattles out of him. He powers through, but I catch him wiping sweat from his eyes, or are those tears? Poor bastard. The instructors keep encouraging him, but he’s clearly not at full strength.
The challenge ramps up; we switch partners, and I get Blake for a Tree Pose, where we have to hold each other for balance. This is fucking cruel. I have no inclination whatsoever to even touch Blake, or any of the guys for that matter. Thankfully, Lyssa rotates in.
“My turn with the mountain man.” She steps onto my mat and presses her back to my chest for a supported twist. Her soft, warm curves fit against me like puzzle pieces, and I wrap an arm around her waist to steady us, splaying my hand on her hip. “Breathe with me,” she murmurs, her ribs expanding against my palm.
“Since you’re asking me to share your air, and you haven’t sent me packing yet, I guess that means you’re okay with me staying.”
“You would be correct. I can’t even believe you went through an audition and are bunking with everyone.”
“You’d be amazed at what I would do if it meant spending my life with you.”
“Then get busy.” She chuckles, twisting to face me slightly. Her eyes drop to my lips. The air thickens with electricity. I pull her closer, just a fraction, my thumb traces slow circles on her side through the silky fabric.
“Lys …” I growl in a low tone, dipping my head until my beard brushes her ear. “If you keep pressing back against me like this, I’m going to forget we’re on camera.”
She shivers, making her ass nestle tighter against my growing erection for one torturous second. “Maybe I want you to forget,” she whispers in a voice barely audible over the music and laughter. Before I can respond, Tyler butts in. God, give me patience.
We finally wrap the challenge and Ethan wins, which is fair. The guy’s a trainer, but Lyssa apparently hasn’t given up on me yet, because she pulls me aside.
